


Expectation

by HopeCoppice



Series: Unexpected [2]
Category: Young Dracula
Genre: Addiction, Blood, Blood Addiction, Blood Drinking, Bloodlust, Character Death, Character Turned Into Vampire, M/M, Masturbation, PTSD, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Recovery, Rehabilitation, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Therapy, Trauma, Vampire Turning, revamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 16:41:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 60
Words: 83,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4067158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They'd always known this day would come. But now, as the time draws near, can they go through with it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As with Unexpected, the racy/gory parts of this are every third chapter, so if you're not a fan, those are the ones to skip. However, some of the racy/gory parts are sort of plot-essential, so you may have to fill in some gaps for yourself.

_He'd been waiting for this moment his whole life. This was what he'd dreamed of ever since he was a kid, and knew nothing about vampires except that they were cool. This was what he'd agreed to – willingly, eagerly even – when he'd got involved with Bertrand, when things had got serious. Ask anyone who knew him well, and they'd all say the same thing: Robin Branagh had always been destined to become a vampire._

_So now the time had come, why was he terrified?_

_"B," he whispered, "I'm scared." Almost before he'd finished speaking, the vampire had moved, cold forehead pressing against Robin's warm one, blue eyes boring into dark.  
"Do you want to back out?" The tone of his voice made it clear that he wouldn't judge him if the answer was yes, that he would completely understand… that he would let Robin leave the room alive._

_He took a deep breath._

* * *

"Robin." Bertrand nudged the boy again, then sighed and trailed a cold hand down his chest until he blinked into consciousness. "You were panicking again." The boy clutched at him in sudden terror, and Bertrand simply eased him into a firm embrace and held him until he calmed down.  
"Bertrand?"  
"Robin." He dropped a gentle kiss into the boy's messy hair before smoothing it down as best he could. "What's going on?"

Robin swallowed hard, and for a moment he looked as vulnerable as he had that first night, almost five years ago, when Bertrand had suggested they stop pretending they were going to sleep in separate rooms and  _just get under the blanket, Robin_ … but then the moment passed, and Robin nodded to himself.  
"I think we should start thinking about… I think it's time." It took Bertrand a moment to realise what the breather was getting at. He thought it was time to take away his 'breather' epithet altogether. He studied him carefully for a moment, but Robin seemed pretty certain.  
"You do?" The boy nodded. "Then… we'll talk about it when we're awake. Does that sound fair?" Another nod, and Bertrand was off the hook; he still had a few hours to work out how he felt about all this. For now, though, he ran a hand through Robin's hair and kissed him gently.

"Go back to sleep." Robin kissed him back, then curled up against him and drifted obediently back into dreamland.


	2. Chapter 2

Robin woke the following day with the uneasy, though not wholly unfamiliar, feeling that he'd done something really stupid. Bertrand was nowhere to be seen, though that wasn't unusual; the vampire was often the first to wake, and he wasn't one to lie idle. Still, Robin wished he was there. Maybe Bertrand would have an explanation for him; maybe he could tell him why it felt as if there were bats in his stomach.

As luck would have it, only a few minutes passed before Bertrand returned with a bottle of soy blood for himself and a glass of water for Robin.  
"We should talk." Robin winced.  
"I knew it. What did I do?" Bertrand frowned.  
"You don't remember? Last night, you said…" He trailed off, looking thoughtful, and Robin wondered what he possibly could have said to prompt that. Then he remembered being woken in the dead of night – Vlad did insist on keeping a diurnal schedule as much as possible, and nobody in his own household was going to argue with the Grand High Vampire – to find the Bertrand of reality as keen to comfort him as the one in his nightmares.  
"I said it was time."

Now he was properly awake, the idea of being bitten seemed just as terrifying as it had last night; why had he decided it would be a good idea? But he knew it had to happen soon; he wanted to stay young forever, really he did, but more than that he wanted to look the right age to spend so much time with Bertrand and Vlad. That time was now; Bertrand had retained the appearance of his mid-twenties and Robin was coming up to twenty-three himself. Vlad, much to his own annoyance, still looked about eighteen despite being Robin's age, and there was no telling if he'd ever grow out of it. No, now was the most sensible time to go through with the plan that had always been in place… Robin knew that, and he wanted to be with Bertrand forever – he knew that now, with absolute certainty – but he couldn't quite shake the fear.

"Yes. But you were half-asleep and you seemed like you were having a nightmare. So what do you think now?" Robin blinked; sometimes it still seemed strange to hear the vampire who still barked orders at Vlad in training asking him for his opinion as if it actually  _mattered_.  
"It would make sense… and Bertrand, I love you, you know I do." Bertrand was watching him intently.  
"There's a 'but' in there somewhere." Robin shook his head stubbornly, not that Bertrand seemed even remotely taken in by that.  
"Well, what do  _you_  think, then? It'd be your job, after all." He'd surprised the vampire somehow.  
"Me?" It was Robin's turn to frown as he nodded; wasn't that obvious? "I thought you'd want Vlad-"  
"He's my best mate and all that, B, but he hasn't had human blood in all the time we've known each other. He'd probably drain me dry without thinking, he doesn't know  _how_  to… turn someone." Saying the words brought home what they were talking about, and Robin fell silent for a moment. "Besides, of course it has to be you. If you'll do it, I mean. So what do you think? Ready to be stuck with me forever?"

* * *

Bertrand blinked; was Robin even aware that he was in fact effectively proposing to Bertrand? Unlike a simple breather tradition such as marriage, the relationship between half-fang and sire could never be dissolved with both parties still undead; one of them would have to be slain to release the other. Admittedly, a lot of sires just ran away from their unwanted half-fangs, but it came to almost the same thing; most wouldn't survive alone. Ryan was surprising in that respect, in that not only had he managed to survive, but he'd tracked Ingrid down and proved himself useful before she could go the whole hog and have him staked.

Robin's last question, however, suggested that he knew or at least suspected what he was asking of him.  
"Are you absolutely sure, Robin? You'd want to give up everything to be with me forever?" Robin nodded, looking anxious. "How about…" Bertrand ran through a checklist of things in his mind, a checklist he'd perfected over several years, since it became apparent that Robin was serious about being bitten one day, "How about we do this in about six months' time? That gives us time to sort things out and you time to change your mind."  
"I'm not going to-"  
"Six months, Robin. Please, I don't want you to rush into this." The boy nodded, looking oddly reluctant, which only added to Bertrand's conviction that he'd made the decision on the spur of the moment and had wanted to get it over with before he could back out. That wasn't what Bertrand wanted for Robin; besides, even if he was completely certain, there were things that needed sorting out. For one thing, he would have to apply to the Grand High Vampire for a Bite License and that was  _not_  going to be a fun conversation to have.

* * *

Robin didn't understand what was wrong with him. He'd had nightmares about becoming a vampire three times this week, and suddenly he was arguing with Bertrand about how soon he could make those nightmares real? Besides which, he'd practically  _proposed_  to the older man, and it had hardly been the romantic occasion he'd always imagined proposing would be. He thought he might try again, some time in this six-month waiting period, if there was time to do so in between sorting out all those ominous 'things' Bertrand had mentioned, whatever they were. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought about it before; he'd even briefly mentioned the idea to Vlad once. His friend had teased that Bertrand was more likely to do it, as the manlier man of the relationship, but Robin had ignored him. They were both men – if you ignored the vampire thing - and nothing stopped women proposing anyway, and he knew Bertrand was averse to suggesting anything that meant Robin might be stuck with him forever. Which, indeed, was probably why he was dragging his feet now. Unless he didn't want to be stuck with Robin?

"B, if you don't want to…" Bertrand crawled back under the blanket with him then, in the double coffin Ingrid had teased them about for weeks, and kissed him until he stopped protesting.  
"It's still early," the older man commented with just a hint of a smirk, "we don't have to get up for a while yet…" Robin grinned back at him, feigning shock.  
"Bertrand du Fortunesa, are you suggesting we get up to no good?" The older vampire looked almost offended and for a moment Robin thought he'd completely misread his lover's intentions. Then Bertrand growled into his ear in that way he had that always made Robin's insides turn to jelly.  
"You know it's  _always_  good." That put paid to conversation for some time.


	3. Chapter 3

Bertrand enjoyed being with Robin like this; he never knew quite what to expect from the boy and this morning was no exception. He'd thought Robin might be hesitant given their big, serious discussion – which he knew he'd never really given his opinion on, but there was no point until he knew a little more about Robin's feelings on the subject – but, instead, the boy seemed to be trying to find out all the strange little quirks of vampire physiology he would soon have to deal with himself. Strangely, Bertrand didn't mind being a test subject in this instance.

It started subtly enough – kisses to the insides of his wrists, which were unusual but not particularly vampiric – and then Bertrand's entire universe tilted onto its side as Robin straddled his hips and ran his tongue up his lover's neck. Bertrand knew, even then, that he was marvelling at the lack of pulse more than anything else, but he made no move to stop him, even when Robin began nibbling gently at his neck.

Just when Bertrand decided he'd had enough of being an experiment, Robin shifted southwards and conscious thought became a serious issue as Robin demonstrated just exactly what he could do with his mouth besides question Bertrand. The breather was definitely in control of this little romp, and Bertrand would let him if it felt this good. And it  _definitely_  felt good.

* * *

Robin had practiced biting on Bertrand before, of course – not that Bertrand had been aware of the connection being made in Robin's head – but now it seemed quite urgent that he get used to the feeling of someone's neck against his teeth. Of course, his teeth would be different soon, too. It didn't matter, because Bertrand was clearly enjoying it, and Robin was only warming up. He waited until Bertrand began to fidget, clearly frustrated, and then turned his attention to other parts of the vampire's anatomy.

He was surprised – still, after  _years_  – that Bertrand was letting him keep control of the situation; it seemed as if every time he tried to get on top, the vampire allowed it for a little longer before… well, he suspected Bertrand would call it 'reclaiming his rightful place' but it was more like 'freaking out and having to take over'. If he wasn't very much mistaken, though, that moment was about to arrive, the moment Bertrand would be unable to tolerate his own submission any more. Sure enough, the vampire's hand tangled in his hair, gently coaxing him up to join their lips again even as Bertrand moaned at the loss of Robin's mouth elsewhere.

Robin hadn't even realised how aroused he'd become himself until Bertrand's hand reached down between them, and then he gasped at the other man's touch. He hurried to reciprocate, still kissing the other man desperately, and moaned as they both spilled over the edge together, breathing hard. He wondered why Bertrand still panted for breath at moments like these, but it was only a fleeting thought as he laid his head on Bertrand's chest and sighed his way into sleep once more.


	4. Chapter 4

Bertrand lay still, Robin snoring slightly as he lay sprawled across him, and thought very carefully about the logistics of what Robin had asked him to do. His hand came up to run carefully through Robin's dark, messy hair as he struggled to focus only on facts and to-do lists, not his own feelings. His feelings on the whole matter would only get in the way.

He hadn't been expecting Robin to ask him to bite him. Of course, he'd known for years that Robin would one day ask to be bitten, but he'd assumed – he and Vlad had  _both_ thought - that Vlad would be the one entrusted with the task. After all, all vampires were theoretically loyal to the Grand High Vampire anyway, so the half-fang loyalty transferred by a bite wouldn't be an obstacle. Now it seemed he would have to apply for a Bite License himself  _and_  work out how they were going to counter it. If he was to have Robin forever – and he didn't dare let himself imagine that, much as he wanted it – if Robin was to be his for all time, he should not be a mindless slave to Bertrand's will. That wasn't something either of them wanted. There had to be a way around that.

Robin shifted in his sleep, nuzzling into Bertrand's shoulder, mumbling something incomprehensible to himself. Bertrand's arm tightened around the sleeping boy and he craned his neck to drop a kiss into the boy's hair. He would find a way to do what Robin wanted. He would find the way, and he wouldn't let his own feelings interfere. What Robin wanted was all that mattered.

* * *

When Robin woke for the second time, he was surprised to find himself still firmly wrapped in Bertrand's arms. He'd thought the vampire would have gone off to get things done long ago.  
"You sticking around for another go, B? 'Cos I'd love to, but I'm not sure I can-" He propped himself up to smile at Bertrand and caught sight of the look on his face. "What's wrong?"

Bertrand shook his head, smoothing the frown from his own features and rearranging them into an imitation of Robin's smile.  
"Nothing. I'm fine." Robin raised an eyebrow and Bertrand sighed. "I was just thinking."  
"You're always thinking," He said it with a fond smile, and there was no sting in it. "What about?"  
"What do you think? You." Bertrand turned his face away. "It's always you." Robin reached out and stroked his lover's face until he turned back to him.  
"What about me, Bertrand?" The vampire stared into his eyes for a moment before replying almost guiltily.  
"Biting you."

Robin couldn't suppress the tremor that shuddered through his body at those words. Bertrand couldn't help but notice, he knew; Robin was practically on top of him, after all. The tutor nodded to himself.  
"That's what I thought. Why do you want this, Robin?" He smoothed a hand through the vampire's hair, trying to reassure him.  
"I want to be with you. Always, you know?"  
"Why now? Why not wait, if you're scared?"  
"I'll always be scared." He surprised himself with the realisation. "I'm always going to be a bit scared, Bertrand, I'm human. But if I have to die to stay with you, I'll do it. And there's no point putting it off if I'm not gonna feel any better, right?" Bertrand stared at him for a moment.  
"When did you get so philosophical?" Robin shrugged.  
"Must have picked it up off my smart, brave boyfriend. So what are the plans for today?"

Bertrand was looking at him as if he was some precious jewel he'd just unearthed and was afraid to look away from in case he never saw its like again.  
"Today we stay right here." Robin raised an eyebrow – the man was insatiable – but the expression on Bertrand's face suggested that he needed this time to just hold onto what they had before he got down to the serious business of taking it away. Robin snuggled even closer, hesitated for a moment, and then bit his lip.  _Hard._

* * *

Bertrand smelt the blood before he realised what had happened, fangs descending automatically as he pulled away and glared at Robin.  
"What did you do that for?" Robin was unrepentant.  
"Making the most of it. You should too." Bertrand knew he should argue; he wasn't with Robin for his blood, he always felt awful after he'd tasted it, but  _bats_ , Robin knew what it did to him, and since it really wasn't going to be an experience he could enjoy forever… He leant back in and swept his tongue gently across Robin's lower lip. The boy  _moaned_ , as if he was determined to be Bertrand's undoing, and he pulled his breather on top of him as he continued to kiss away the drop of blood welling up between them.

When Robin's lip stopped bleeding, Bertrand kept kissing him until eventually the boy pulled back.  
"You still haven't told me how  _you_  feel about all this." It was Bertrand's turn to moan – well, more of a grumble really – but Robin wasn't going to let him just ignore the question and go back to kissing, so he supposed he'd have to think of something to say.  
"It doesn't matter, does it? You're the one being bitten."  
"And you're my boyfriend.  _And_ the one biting me-"  
"Are you sure you wa-"  
"Yes, Bertrand, unless you don't want to do it. Which brings us nicely back round to how you feel about it all."

He hated when Robin got clever.


	5. Chapter 5

"How do I feel? Well… I'm trying not to think about it, actually." Robin opened his mouth, then closed it again as he realised he had no answer to that. He took a moment to wonder  _why_  Bertrand was so opposed to the thought of biting him. It wasn't the taste of his blood, he knew that – he'd just proved it, hadn't he? Unless the problem was that Bertrand would lose his ready supply of fresh human blood, but… that didn't seem to square up with the way Bertrand always acted like he'd committed some heinous offence whenever Robin fed him like that.

"You… is the thought of being stuck with me really that bad?" Bertrand's jaw dropped and Robin hurried to correct himself. "Sorry, no, I don't mean… that was a guilt trip, sorry. But I mean… you don't want to be with me?"  
"I do. Of course I do. But Robin, you're asking me to  _bite_  you. There's no going back from this, when it happens. And if I…" He trailed off, eyes darting away from his lover, but Robin could wait him out just this once. Eventually, the tutor reluctantly dragged his gaze back up to meet Robin's. "If I get carried away," he managed, voice thick with emotion, "I could kill you."

* * *

Bertrand watched as Robin's eyes widened… then  _darkened_  for a moment before the boy shook his head.  
"You won't."  
"You can't know that, Robin. Please don't ask me to put you in danger." He hadn't meant to say that; Bertrand du Fortunesa didn't  _beg_ , not for anything.  
"I'm not in danger with you, B. But if it makes you feel better… maybe Vlad could wait outside or something in case you need help." The boy laced his fingers with Bertrand's, effectively pinning him to the floor, and Bertrand let him. "See, I can take you. Easy."

He closed his eyes; Robin had no idea just how wrong he was. He didn't have the energy to argue, though – he could ask Vlad what he thought, at the very least. The Grand High Vampire had acquired a wisdom far beyond his years since taking up his post. He could advise him.  
"You can," he felt, rather than heard, Robin's sharp intake of breath as he processed the innuendo, "and you can make your own decisions. That's why I didn't want to tell you." Robin frowned.  
"Tell me what?"  
"I'm…" He paused, trying to convince himself that what he felt was something else, really anything else, anything other than the slowly mounting emotion that had been building since Robin had first suggested, hours ago now, that  _he_  should be the one to sink his fangs into that smooth, pale skin and render it lifeless. He didn't like this feeling, he hadn't experienced it in a long time. "Robin, I'm scared."

* * *

Robin wasn't sure what drove him to press his forehead against Bertrand's, as if led by some half-remembered instinct, but he did it nonetheless.  
"Do you want to back out?" Bertrand hesitated, then shook his head.  
"I can't back out of something I haven't agreed to yet."  
"But I thoug-"  
"It's your choice, Robin, of course it is. But let me talk to Vlad about it first, yeah?"

Robin thought for a moment, then nodded. If Bertrand was afraid, and talking to Vlad would help him not to be, then of course that was what he needed to do. The silence hung awkwardly in the air between them for a moment before Robin sighed and shifted off of Bertrand.  
"We should probably get up." He stood, carelessly stepping free of the sheet, and began searching for a clean pair of boxers. He could feel Bertrand's eyes on him as he moved around the room, but he didn't look back as he uttered a teasing warning. "You'd better not be eyeing up my neck, B…" He was rewarded by a chuckle that told him his boyfriend was at least trying to maintain a normal state of mind.  
"Trust me, I'd forgotten you even  _had_  a neck." He laughed and threw a pair of pants at Bertrand.  
"C'mon, we should go and talk to Vlad." The vampire pulled the offending garments off his face and began wriggling into them.  
"Let me talk to him first?"

* * *

He could see Robin was confused by the request. He could understand that; after all, it was Robin's decision, Robin's  _life_  that was about to end. He'd probably thought it was a sign of his devotion to Bertrand that he would invite him along at all. Now Bertrand was trying to take his big reveal to Vlad away from him, or so it would seem to Robin.  
"Why?"  
"Because he's marginally less likely to lose it if you're not actually standing there."  
"Why would he lose it?" Bertrand stood and wrapped an arm around his boyfriend, lips brushing against his ear.  
"You know how protective he is of you. He'd probably hypnotise you and send you home again. Which, by the way, we need to make arrangements about." Robin nodded, and Bertrand knew they were both equally dreading the prospect. The Branaghs still didn't know of Bertrand's vampiric nature, but now Robin was on the road to joining him, they would have to decide what they were going to do about the boy's family.

Robin let out an irritated huff – Bertrand treasured the sound – and slumped down onto the floor, grabbing a notebook and writing furiously. Bertrand glanced over his shoulder, but Robin shielded it from view and he retreated to the opposite corner, finding more clothes. By the time he was fully dressed – he had to stop wearing such  _difficult_  boots – Robin had folded the paper in half and was holding it out to him, looking reluctant.  
"Give this to Vlad, then. So he knows it's really my idea. Don't read it, yeah?" He nodded solemnly, kissed his boyfriend, and left the room with the note clutched tightly in his hand. It was time to face Vlad.


	6. Chapter 6

Robin sat in his boxers in the big, empty coffin in the small, empty room and tried not to think about what could be happening in Vlad's throne room, where his fate would be decided. His mind kept turning it over, though, thoughts churning, worry pitting at the bottom of his stomach for Bertrand… He had to think of something else, anything else.

He stole a wary glance at the door before closing his eyes and tentatively running his own hand over his bare chest. It wasn't like Bertrand touching him, but if he ignored the warmth in his fingers he could almost pretend the other man was there. He blushed as an old memory surfaced in his mind.

_"Well, that's embarrassing." Robin had turned bright red, and he knew there was no way Bertrand hadn't noticed his arousal; they were pressed too tightly together under the blanket. "I'll, um… I'll just…" He'd been planning to turn away, maybe even to run to the bathroom and, well, he wasn't sure what he was planning to do, actually, but he had to get away from Bertrand before things got even more awkward – but then a cold hand on his arm stopped him._

_"You don't have to run off every time this happens, you know." Robin stared at him, eyes wide, and Bertrand moved his hand back, letting it trail across his bare chest as it went. They'd never – Robin had been having this problem for a while now, since he started sleeping under the same blanket as Bertrand, but they hadn't – they weren't ready to take that huge step yet. Bertrand seemed to read his mind. "I'm not suggesting that, Robin."_  
"Then what are you saying?" It was late, and Robin was too frustrated and tired to play guessing games.  
"I…" He'd never seen Bertrand look so uncertain. "If… if you want, you could... I won't even look."

_Robin stared at him for a moment, an awkward moment that stretched between them until Bertrand closed his eyes with a grimace._  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cro-"  
"What if I want you to watch?" His breath caught – had he really just said that? How could Bertrand respect him if he acted so… forward? But then a startled tutor was moving forwards to claim his lips, and he realised he wasn't the only one struggling with their close proximity. Bertrand was just so good at hiding his feelings that Robin hadn't even noticed. He moaned into the vampire's mouth and Bertrand drew back, looking uncertain.

_Robin rolled onto his back, took a deep breath… and blushed. Bertrand ran a hand through his boyfriend's hair, clearly trying to reassure him._  
"You don't have to – I understand if it's too awkward… I shouldn't have-"  
"Tell me what to do." The vampire blinked at him.  
"I… what?" Robin turned even pinker as he tried to explain what he wanted. He didn't even know why he wanted it, only that he didn't know what to do and Bertrand's voice would make everything better.  
"I know you won't touch me, and we're not ready for that, but I… could you talk me through it?" He thought, for a moment, that Bertrand was going to refuse, disgusted… but then the tutor leant in, lips barely an inch from Robin's ear.  
"Take your hand and run it down your chest…"

Robin gasped and moaned at the memory, a moment of blinding pleasure blocking out all his fears and worries for a few long, blissful minutes. Then everything came flooding back, and Robin was back to an uneasy state of wondering what was happening to his lover.

 


	7. Chapter 7

"You want to apply for a  _what_ , sorry, Bertrand? It's crazy, for a moment I thought you said-"  
"Bite License." Vlad stared at him for what seemed like an age.  
"Why?  _Who?_ " It seemed as good a time as any to hand over the folded piece of paper his boyfriend had entrusted him with. He hadn't read it, Robin's request ringing in his ears, so he had no way of knowing how Vlad would react to its contents.

He supposed he should have expected the hand that shot out – always a precursor to an untimely meeting with a wall or some piece of furniture – but he was barely knocked off-balance as Vlad seemed to suddenly change his mind, eyes still fixed on the note.  
"You've read this?" The Grand High Vampire's voice was filled with anger, and Bertrand wasn't sure whether to be glad or afraid that the guards had been sent away.  
"No. He asked me to bring it to you." Vlad held out the piece of paper that had caused so much offence, and Bertrand stepped forward hesitantly to take it.  
"Read it now." It was a direct order; he couldn't disobey.

_Hey Vlad,_  
I don't know if Bertrand gave you this before or after he asked you for a license but I've decided it's time for me to become a vampire, and I want Bertrand to be the one to turn me. I know you're probably not going to like the idea much – at least, Bertrand thinks not – but do me a favour and don't throw my boyfriend across any rooms, alright? I kind of like him the shape he is. You may be Grand High Vampire, but that doesn't mean I can't come over there and kick your cape.  
Robin

Bertrand read the note twice, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips at the minor treason of Robin's threat. Then again, it wasn't treason yet, he supposed. Robin wasn't a vampire… yet. He frowned slightly.  
"What's the problem, Bertrand? Isn't this what you wanted?"  
" _Kind of_? Six years and he  _kind of_  likes me the shape I am?"  
"Bertrand." The growl was a warning. "Are you seriously asking me to consider this?"  
"Yes." He held eye contact for longer than was usually expected when addressing the Chosen One.  
"And  _you_  want to be the one to bite him?"  
"He wants me to. I want what he wants." Vlad raised an eyebrow at that… then he seemed to deflate, slumping back in his throne, steepling his fingers and staring down at the floor with a weary sigh.

"It seems you've reached the same conclusion Erin and I have come to, then." Bertrand didn't ask; he didn't need to. Even the barest tilt of the head he permitted himself was unnecessary. Vlad was going to continue anyway. "They're outgrowing us, Bertrand. They're beginning to worry about being too old for us. We're going to be young forever, and they're not. People would never understand." He realised, then, what the younger vampire was trying to say.  
"She won't be bitten." Vlad looked at him then, really looked at him, and Bertrand could see the hollow expression in his eyes.  
"No. She won't."

* * *

Robin couldn't stand it anymore; he was going to find out what was happening. He scrawled a note to Bertrand and left it on the coffin, in case they ended up missing each other on their travels, locked the door behind him, and left the house.

Vlad had chosen well, when it came time for him to take an official residence of his own; the main house was large enough to be fitting for a ruler, but not showy enough to attract breather curiosity. The real beauty of it, though, was that there were several smaller residences attached – almost cottages, really, only that always made Robin think of thatched roofing and there was no such thing here – through a variety of tunnels and shaded walkways. It was possible for someone to pass from, for example, the Count's guest residence in the north-west corner of Vlad's estate, all the way to the main house and then out to Bertrand and Robin's in the east, without ever setting foot in the sunlight.

Possible, but not necessary. Robin thought he might as well make the most of the sunlight while he could still appreciate it. He slipped out through the side of an avenue of closely-grown trees and found himself in the harsh glare of the Earth's nearest star, striking out across the fields towards Vlad's house. His Dad would be proud of him if he saw him now – enjoying the great outdoors like a true Branagh. He winced at the realisation that his Dad couldn't be proud of him for very long.

He nearly fell over the girl lying in the grass before he realised she was there.  
"Erin. You alright?" She didn't look alright. She was just lying on her front with her head cushioned on her folded arms; she jumped at his voice.  
"Robin." She seemed relieved, for some reason. "Yeah, I'm… Honestly, I could use someone to talk to. Do you have a few minutes?" Robin cast a longing look in the direction of Vlad's house, then sighed and flopped down beside her.  
"Yeah, 'course."

* * *

"What happened?" Bertrand knew, as his advisor, that it wasn't his place to pry into the Chosen One's personal life. However, he was also Vlad's friend, and it was certainly a friend's office to find out what was wrong.  
"I didn't ask her to be bitten. She just… she started talking about how she was struggling with the whole business of me not aging at the same rate as her, and so… well, I asked if she wanted me to." Vlad shrugged helplessly. "She said she never would." Bertrand winced.  
"When did this happen?"  
"A few hours ago. Why does everything always happen at once around here?" He didn't have an answer for that.  
"What did you say?" Vlad shook his head.  
"I didn't get a chance. She said she never would, and then she said she was sorry, and then she left. I don't know where she went but I'm pretty sure it's somewhere sunny. I don't know what I'd say if I  _could_ , though." He took a deep, pointless breath and changed the subject, his tone making it clear that it wasn't optional.

"So, this Bite License. I'm sure you appreciate that we need to discuss this with Robin." He paused. "But I understand why you came alone. I'm sorry I lashed out, I've been…" Bertrand shook his head; he understood.  
"I can go and fetch him now, if you like." The Chosen One nodded, and Bertrand left with a tiny bow. His friend didn't move, looking smaller and more vulnerable on his throne than he had since the first time he sat on it.

* * *

"How come you're out in the sunlight anyway? Don't think I've ever seen you outside before." She was exaggerating, of course, but Robin supposed he should have realised it would make people wonder.  
"Just making the most of the nice weather." Looking at her now, he could see the redness of her eyes, as if she'd been crying recently. "What's up, Erin?"  
"We're getting older, Robin. Growing up." Robin nodded, wondering where she was going with this. "And they're not. Vlad, he's not getting older, he's never going to. I don't think I can handle it."

Robin chuckled awkwardly.  
"You too, huh? I was just thinking the same thing the other day." She frowned at him, confused.  
"You were? But you and Bertrand are so – I mean, I thought you'd just let him bite you."  
"I am, I mean I will. Soon, probably." It took a moment for him to realise what she'd said. "Wait… you're not letting Vlad-?"  
"No. No, I never wanted that, and he never used to either. I still don't think he wants to bite me, deep down. But I'm not… I can't give up everything I am and everything I believe in for him. I don't know how anyone could." She winced. "No offence."

Robin shrugged.  
"None taken. So… what are you going to do? You and Vlad?" She looked away, shaking her head.  
"I don't think… I think I need to leave. Before it gets even more painful. I didn't mean to hurt him, Robin, I just can't…"  
"No, I get it. Kind of. I mean, it's quite a big deal,  _dying_  for someone. And if you can't, that doesn't… it's not your fault. I mean… Even I think it's a bit scary. Sometimes you just have to walk away while you still have a chance at a normal life."

* * *

In the tunnel of densely-grown trees Bertrand stood, staring in horror out into the sunlight. Robin's note, tucked into his pocket, had said he was going to Vlad's, so Bertrand had been on his way back there himself when he'd heard it.

_Sometimes you just have to walk away while you still have a chance at a normal life. Oh, Robin…_  Bertrand stood in the shade, completely unobserved, and wondered what on earth he was going to do.


	8. Chapter 8

Robin walked into Vlad's throne room to find Bertrand and the Chosen One sitting morosely at a small table in the corner, drinking soy blood and playing a mediocre game of cards. Something was wrong; they were both better players than that. Still, at least neither of them appeared to have slain the other.  
"Hey. Did you guys talk about… you know?" He realised it probably wasn't the best timing for Vlad, but it was important.  
"Yes, we talked about it." Vlad left it at that, and the way he glanced sympathetically at Bertrand made Robin wonder what he'd missed. The older vampire dropped his cards onto the table and stood.  
"Do you still want to talk to Robin now, or would you rather…?" Vlad nodded.  
"Now would be best, I think." Bertrand didn't seem too happy, but he bowed stiffly and left, Robin barely catching him in time to kiss him on the cheek. Vlad's top advisor didn't even react to the gesture, just kept walking. Robin rounded on the Grand High Vampire.  
"Why's he so upset? Did you throw him at a wall again?"

Vlad shook his head and gestured wearily for Robin to take the seat Bertrand had just vacated.  
"He asked me for a Bite License, Robin. For you." Robin nodded.  
"I know. Didn't he give you my note?"  
"Yeah, he did. And I didn't throw him at anything. But Robin, I need to know… Was this your idea?"  
"Yeah, of course."  
"And you're not under any pressure to go through with this?"  
"No! Of course not."  
"And you're sure?" Robin was getting fed up with the constant questioning.  
"Yes, and Bertrand's insisting on waiting six months anyway so it's not like I won't have time to change my mind. We just need a Bite License, and then we can start sorting things out. Can you do that for us, Vlad?"

Vlad regarded him thoughtfully for a moment.  
"You really do love him, don't you?" His tone was wistful, but he pulled himself together sharply. "You know asking him to bite you is like-"  
"Practically a proposal, yeah. I didn't mean to be so unromantic about it. I want to ask him properly, though, before he… you know." Vlad narrowed his eyes at him.  
"Can you actually even bring yourself to say it?" Robin frowned and took a deep breath.  
"Before… I want to ask him properly before he bites me and turns me into one of you." It came out in a rush, but he'd said it all the same. It felt more solid now, like it was actually going to happen. But he'd sounded so much like his younger self, that part of him that was still fourteen years old, deep down, and desperate to be a vampire, that it was almost reassuring. Some of the enthusiasm he would have had back then was beginning to bleed through.

"I'll think about it. The two of you have things discuss, too, I'm sure. You should go home and talk to him." Robin had been hoping for a more definite answer, but you didn't just ignore a dismissal from the Grand High Vampire. Besides, he wanted to know what was wrong with Bertrand.

* * *

Bertrand was definitely just lying in the coffin for a rest. It had nothing at all to do with the fact that the blanket smelt of Robin, and it certainly wasn't an attempt to recapture the good mood of earlier that morning. Yes, he'd been worried about biting the boy, but he hadn't had to worry about why he was lying to him, or when he was going to leave, or if he was ever going to leave rather than letting Bertrand sweep him along to a destiny he couldn't bear the thought of.

He heard the front door open and close and then footsteps on the stairs. He considered moving, or pretending to be asleep, but in the end both of those options sounded like a lot of energy expended for very little gain, so on the whole it was probably more efficient to stay put. When Robin walked in, he merely looked up at him and waited for his boyfriend to join him.

Robin seemed confused by the lack of greeting, but he kicked his shoes off and climbed in beside him, wrapping an arm around the vampire he'd asked to bite him less than twenty-four hours before. Bertrand waited for him to speak, but it seemed Robin was content to wait him out.  
"I heard you talking to Erin." The reaction wasn't as extreme as he'd expected it to be.  
"Oh. Yeah. Vlad must be pretty cut up about the whole not-biting thing." Bertrand frowned at him.  
"He's not thrilled, but it's better than pretending to be alright with something you really don't want."

Robin stared for a moment, as if he was trying to work out the reason for the intensity of his boyfriend's gaze, and Bertrand couldn't help but continue.  
"Sometimes… you just have to walk away while you still have a chance at a normal life. It's alright, Robin, I understand if you want to leave, or just… not do this. I'd never want to mak-" He stopped abruptly as Robin burst out laughing.  
"Leave you? That's hilarious. Blood, B, I thought you were really upset! You had me worried…" It took a moment for his boyfriend to realise he wasn't joining the laughter. "You didn't think I meant me?"

"I understand," Bertrand frowned, concentrating on keeping his voice even, "I should never have put you in a position where you might feel you had to give up your whole life for me, we should never have started this. I… I'll be alright, I'll have fond memories, and-"  
"Bertrand, could you stop being so bloody noble and listen to me for a minute?" He complied, waiting for the words he was dreading.  _I have to go. I can't stay with you._  "I'm getting the bite, I'm staying with you."  
"But you said-"  
" _Erin_. Erin needs to get away. It wasn't my idea, and it's gonna crush Vlad, but I can see why she has to do it. Me? I'm staying here. With you."

Bertrand hardly dared to believe it.  
"You're really not leaving?" Robin snorted.  
"And miss out on the coffin antics?" He seemed to see the doubt in Bertrand's eyes, and his expression softened into warm sincerity. "No, B, I'm not leaving you. Not ever."

Bertrand couldn't help himself – within seconds he'd rolled them both over so that he was straddling Robin's hips, nipping at his lower lip until Robin writhed beneath him. He went to pull away, but Robin's hand in his hair kept him close as the boy murmured a half-hearted protest.  
"Really, B, again?" The vampire made as if to move off of him, but Robin clung still tighter. "You're insatiable." There was a smile in his voice to match the one on his face as he ran his tongue over Bertrand's lower lip and allowed his wrists to be pinned to the base of the coffin by Bertrand's strong, cool hands.


	9. Chapter 9

What Robin kept forgetting was that Bertrand was a tease. Once he had Robin immobilised and completely in his power, no matter how much they both wanted – even needed – each other, it was almost guaranteed that Bertrand would keep him moaning and squirming for hours before finally giving him what he wanted, whatever that was. And Bertrand always knew, somehow, exactly what would bring Robin right to the edge of euphoria and how to hold him there without letting him fall. Put like that, it sounded like torture, but  _blood_ , Robin loved it.

Gently, because Bertrand was always careful with Robin, the vampire repositioned his arms until he could pin both wrists down with one hand. Robin knew that meant trouble, because now Bertrand had a hand free. For now, it was braced against the side of the coffin as Bertrand broke away from Robin's lips and just stared down at him, like he was drinking in the sight. Maybe he was, but Robin knew that Bertrand had another reason for holding off like this. Maybe this time he could resist, maybe this time he could outlast Bertrand in this ridiculous staring contest… he should have known better, he realised, writhing involuntarily as he always did. Bertrand would never be beaten at this game. Robin didn't mind, because he knew where they were going next.

Sure enough, Bertrand's free hand came round to undo the buttons at the front of his shirt, torturously slowly, moving down his chest until he reached the fly of his jeans. He undid that too, and Robin whimpered with need, dignity forgotten. Bertrand simply moved the fabric aside, running a finger just underneath the waistband of Robin's boxers, before sweeping his tongue straight up from that point to his collarbone in one unbroken stroke. He'd had to let go of his wrists, briefly, to pull that off, but Robin was in no state to even think about moving as a shiver ran the length of his body.

"Bertrand, I-" His boyfriend silenced him with a kiss, then disappeared downwards again, pushing Robin's shirt right off his shoulders before pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin he could find. Robin wasn't sure how much longer he could stand this, but it felt too good for him to keep his hands still and they flew to tug impatiently at Bertrand's shirt-buttons. He expected a reprimand for almost ruining the shirt, but Bertrand just sat up to pull the offending garment off and began unbuckling his belt. Robin reached down, but Bertrand caught his hand, pressing it against the side of the coffin with a look that just told him to keep it there.

Bertrand had slipped a hand inside his own trousers, but his other hand had tugged Robin's boxers down and wrapped around him in a way that made thinking really quite difficult. When Bertrand bent down to get his mouth involved, Robin gave up altogether and surrendered to the bliss.

* * *

Bertrand wondered, sometimes, how he had got here. If anyone had told him, even half a century ago, that he would be doing this willingly – and for a breather, no less – he would have reduced them to dust without even thinking about it. Now here he was, making Robin squirm helplessly, hands still pressed against the side of the coffin. He knew Robin got a strange thrill out of Bertrand taking control, but he also knew that his lover worried about Bertrand's own control issues. He wasn't sure how much of his professed enjoyment was down to not wanting to push Bertrand out of his comfort zone.

It had been almost six years since they'd first got together, and he knew everyone thought there were no boundaries left in their relationship. After all, they seemed to almost think as one unit, they were almost unbearably domesticated, they always knew what each other needed. There were some things, though, that couldn't be cured by kisses and coffin-sharing, things like Bertrand's trust issues.

He did trust Robin, of course he did, but there was something deep down inside that constantly warned him not to leave himself completely vulnerable. Even when he and Robin were alone, he was always half-aware of everything around him, trying to calculate how safe they each were if they should come under attack. He knew that his beloved breather was safest when Bertrand was free to react to threats, and that meant that letting Robin take control was a risky business. He tried, he really did, but something in his head was constantly screaming  _NOT SAFE_  until he took over again, taking control so that if something happened he could get Robin to the safest possible place and be defending him in seconds, without having to wait for the boy to realise he needed to let him.

Robin had always been so understanding of the demands and constraints that put on the physical side of their relationship; there were things he knew Robin wanted to do to him that Bertrand just couldn't allow, not yet. And he knew Robin wanted him to do other things to  _him_ , but Bertrand was afraid, above all else, of causing him harm. There were things they had never done, no matter how much they both wanted to, and that was just how it was.

This, however, this feeling of Robin against his tongue, he could do this. He was  _good_  at this, at least according to Robin and the myriad appreciative noises he made. Even now, Robin's hands were leaving the coffin walls, curling and tightening in his hair, and Bertrand's hand was moving with more urgency, and then Robin let out a strangled gasp and lay back, spent. Bertrand swallowed hard and allowed himself to move and collapse beside Robin, barely even surprised when Robin reached across to finish what Bertrand had started. He didn't have time to be surprised, too busy seeing stars and keeping his eyes fixed on Robin until they fluttered shut and he moaned urgently.  
"Robin-!"

They decided to take a nap, after that, all wrapped up in each other and completely indifferent to the mess. It had been an emotional day, after all.


	10. Chapter 10

_Bertrand was in ecstasy, sweet, rich, red blood trickling past his fangs and down his throat. He didn't want it to ever stop; he couldn't imagine anything more important than swallowing every last drop of the delicious liquid, and so that was exactly what he did, only dimly aware of the struggles of his victim. It had been a long time since he'd drained a breather dry, but one couldn't exactly lose the knack for it. Gradually the struggles subsided, as did the blood flow, and Bertrand licked his lips, sated. It was only then that he realised who lay limp in his arms, never to stir again._  
_"Robin," he whispered brokenly, "Robin, no-" Then Vlad was shouting at him, not the reprimand he'd expected for draining the man he was supposed to be turning, just his name over and over again.  
"Bertrand! Bertrand-"_

"BERTRAND!" He opened his eyes. "For a highly-alert, trained fighter and strategist, you're bloody impossible to wake up." Robin was frowning down at him in concern, and Bertrand struggled to make sense of the information his eyes were relaying. He'd just seen Robin die, he'd  _killed_ him… He clutched at the boy who was leaning anxiously over him, desperate to feel the blood pulsing through his veins, to know he was alive. Robin bore this patiently, waiting until Bertrand's wide-eyed panic subsided before reaching down to stroke his lover's face.

"What was that about, B?" Robin had every right to ask, he knew, but he just couldn't bring himself to admit what he had done, even in his imagination… he was disgusted with himself. He closed his eyes, feeling Robin flop down beside him, and tried to shake off the images in his head of his boyfriend, cold and unmoving. Robin's hand made itself felt, stroking through Bertrand's hair in a way that could only ever be reassuring, and Bertrand rolled onto his side to face the issue head on.  
"I thought… I dreamt I bit you. I drained you, Robin, I'm so sorry-" He couldn't meet Robin's eyes, so he ended up staring at the coffin wall behind him. Robin, however, simply heaved a sigh.  
"Do you trust me, B?" He nodded, confused, and felt Robin's hand tangle more firmly in his hair. "Good. Because I trust you. Let me prove it." Then his head was being guided gently towards Robin's neck, and though his entire body tensed in apprehension, Bertrand couldn't bring himself to resist.

* * *

Bertrand's face was nestled against Robin's neck, and Robin felt a tiny thrill as he realised this was completely new ground; Bertrand had never allowed himself to be so close to his boyfriend's pulse point before. He hoped he wasn't pushing him too far, especially after his nightmare, but it seemed like something his lover needed to know he was capable of doing. The vampire didn't move a muscle, he just lay there, his nose pressed awkwardly against Robin's skin.  
"Are you alright, B?" There was no answer, and then he felt the tiniest pressure of Bertrand's lips against his throat. He almost thought he'd imagined it, but the world's softest kiss was repeated, and then again – twice more before Bertrand pulled away from him.  
"I'm alright. I can control myself." Robin smiled at him, pulling him back down for a proper kiss.

They lay there together for a while longer, before Robin glanced over the top of the coffin at the alarm clock.  
"It's morning. We must have slept longer than we thought." Bertrand made a small noise of complaint, and Robin chuckled to himself; who would believe that this Bertrand existed, if they'd only seen the Bertrand who presented himself to the rest of the world?  
"Do we have to get up?" Robin shrugged.  
"No, you don't. But I need to go and talk to Vlad, and then I have somewhere to be." He stooped and kissed his lover. "I'll see you later."

* * *

Bertrand  _did_  get up, about ten minutes after Robin left, and settled in their small library to start his research on how to overcome half-fang loyalty. He suspected any answers would be found, if anywhere, in Vlad's larger library, but he had to start somewhere.

Lost in his research, it wasn't until the sun began to sink that Bertrand began to worry about Robin's continued absence. Of course the boy had left for days at a time before – they were two different people, after all, and not co-dependent enough to spend all their time together – but something about the mysterious way he'd explained leaving was bothering Bertrand.

He'd just about resolved to go and demand answers from Vlad when he heard the key turn in the front door and raced downstairs to find Robin slumping against the door, clearly exhausted. As Bertrand stepped forward to help him with the stairs, he was overpowered by the smell of sunshine… mixed with the scent of blood. Robin's blood.


	11. Chapter 11

Robin was barely aware of Bertrand being downstairs before the vampire was running his hands anxiously through his hair, peering into his eyes.  
"Robin, you're bleeding, what's happened?" He shook his head.  
"I'm not bleeding, I'm fine." Bertrand raised an eyebrow.  
"I can smell it." He shook his head again, cursing himself for not thinking about this while he was trying to sort out Bertrand's surprise.  
"Nah, I bit my tongue earlier by mistake. Got a bit crazy at the shops." He held up a supermarket carrier bag by way of explanation. "Can we sit down? I'm knackered."

They settled in the lounge, Robin dumping the bags carelessly beside the sofa and curling into Bertrand's body as they sat side by side. Bertrand seemed uneasy, and Robin wasn't sure how to fix that. He felt a little out of it, to be honest.  
"B, could you put the kettle on?" He sat up so his boyfriend could move, smiling as the vampire scooped up his shopping bags and dropped a kiss onto his forehead on his way to the kitchen. He threw out a hand and snagged one of the bags back. "Not that one. Thanks." Bertrand frowned at him curiously, but didn't comment until he'd returned with a steaming cup of tea.

"I suppose I'm not supposed to ask what's in the remaining bag?" Robin shrugged.  
"You can ask, but I'm too tired to answer. Let me finish my tea and I'll tell you." The vampire sat obediently beside him again, watching as he took a sip and sighed happily. "Good tea. Thanks, B. Knew there was a reason I kept you around." Bertrand chuckled, squeezing his free hand, and settled down to wait to hear about Robin's day.

* * *

"Alright, I feel better now." Robin set his cup down and reached into the bag he'd confiscated from Bertrand when he'd tried to help out by putting his food shopping away. "I got you something, to cheer you up. And then I wanted one too because it's nice when we match." Bertrand raised an eyebrow at that – the one time they'd both turned up in the same place in similar outfits, he'd felt a fool – but then the other eyebrow flew up to join it as Robin's hand emerged from the bag clutching…  
"A teddy bear?" Robin grinned and handed it over. "You got  _me_  a teddy bear?"  
"Yep. I got one too, look." Sure enough, the boy was holding a similar toy. Bertrand regarded his own bear more carefully for a moment.  
"Where on earth did you find vampire bears?"  
"There's a shop in town where you can make your own and buy them outfits and stuff. And, well, you seem so stressed lately and I know it's my fault, so I thought I'd cheer you up. Has it… is it working?" He looked so genuinely worried that Bertrand couldn't help smiling down at his little caped bear.  
"Yes. Thank you, Robin."

"So what have you been doing all day while I was fighting my way through crowds of screaming kids?" It was a difficult question to answer; Robin felt bad enough about Bertrand's stress levels without realising he'd spent an entire day fruitlessly trying to find a way of getting around the loyalty problem.  
"Just reading."

* * *

Robin knew that meant research; he wasn't a fool, and he had  _met_  Bertrand… but he let it slide. After all, it wasn't as if Robin had been entirely upfront about his plans for the day when he left this morning.  
"I spoke to Vlad earlier, by the way." Bertrand looked up from where he was fiddling with his bear's cape, waiting for more information. "He seems alright with the idea, but he does want to be there when you bite me. You know, just in case. I tried to get him to agree to wait outside, but-"  
"But he has his moments of being far wiser than you, and insisted. Good." Robin rolled his eyes.  
"You won't hurt me."  
"And Vlad will make sure of that." The older man's tone made it clear that he would brook no argument here, so Robin changed the subject with a sigh.

"He also told me Erin's started packing. She wants to get away as soon as possible, you know, like ripping off a plaster. So if you wanted to say goodbye…" He trailed off; Bertrand and Erin had never exactly been the best of friends. "Well, sooner would be better than later." The vampire nodded in acknowledgement.  
"Are you sure you don't feel the same way? Like you should just pack up and head for the hills? You're offering to give up your  _whole life_  for me, Robin." He sighed; were they really back to that again already?

* * *

Bertrand wasn't expecting the irritated sigh in response to his question. He'd expected something emotional and passionate, not this quiet resignation to a conversation they were having again.  
"No, I'm not." He panicked for a split-second; had he finally got through to Robin, was he going to leave him after all? But his breather simply picked up his vampire teddy bear and rested it on Bertrand's lap, next to his own.  
"See this vampire bear?" He nodded, confused, and Robin pulled the string of his bear's cape, letting it fall from the bear's shoulders. "You take away the cape and he's still just the same bear he always was, even when he was in the shop with about a million other bears just like him." He reached for Bertrand's hand with his free one, and Bertrand let him take it. "But he wants to be with your bear, he wants to be like it. Because they belong together, and he'll wear a cape for all eternity if that's what it takes for them to be together. Besides," he grinned, "he's always liked capes anyway. Ask anyone."

Bertrand stared at him, speechless, amazed by Robin's eloquence and the thought he'd obviously put into his unexpected present.  
"I love you, B, I don't know how I can make you understand that." Bertrand pressed their lips together, pulling Robin closer against him as they sat side-by-side, cuddling him tightly.  
"I understand. I love you too."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback chapter!

_"B," came the whisper in his ear, and Bertrand opened his eyes. He'd been trying to fall asleep as fast as possible, trying to ignore how much he wanted Robin, wanted the boy's hands on his body as his own had just moved over Robin's. It seemed Robin wanted to chat, though, sleepy though he sounded after the release Bertrand had just given him._  
_"Yeah?"_  
_"Don't you ever want to, y'know… I mean, with me here and everything haven't you at least thought about it?" Robin sounded hurt, and Bertrand propped himself up to get a better look at the breather. Sure enough, there was an unfamiliar hint of doubt in his eyes._  
 _"Of course I do. But that's no reason to-"_  
 _"Let me help you." Bertrand gaped at him for a moment, uncertain of what the boy wanted from him, until eventually Robin took pity on him. "You just helped me out, let me return the favour. I mean, if you want. Or you could just - and I'll look away – or-"_  
 _"Why would you do that? You don't owe me anything." Bertrand was confused; what was in it for Robin? There was no reason for him to bring Bertrand pleasure unless he was receiving something in return – kisses made sense, even cuddling made sense, but this? What could make him want to do that?_  
 _"I want you to feel good, B, not all tense like you have been, and I really, really like you. Of course I want to touch you." The feeling that ran through Bertrand at the words was like… like the first drop of blood after days in the desert. "Can I?"_

* * *

_Bertrand closed his eyes for a moment, and nodded. Robin felt a tingle of nerves as they both shuffled about a little until they were comfortable. Then he reached down and, just as Bertrand had done for him earlier, moved the fabric of the trousers the vampire slept in out of the way and wrapped his hand around him. Bertrand moaned as Robin's hand made contact, but as his fingers trailed over the vampire's skin, he suddenly tensed up even more than he had been, trying to squirm away from his touch._

_Robin drew his hand back as if he'd been burned._   
_"What's wrong? Did I hurt you? Did I do something wrong?" The vampire shook his head, still looking horrified, and Robin could do nothing but scoot as far away from him as possible under the blanket, waiting for him to relax. "B, please… do you want me to go?" Bertrand took a long, silent moment to compose himself, then held out his arm._   
_"Come back?" Robin tucked himself under the proffered arm and cuddled into his boyfriend, waiting while Bertrand visibly fought with himself for a moment. "Can we… could you try that again?"_

* * *

_Robin let out a sigh of relief and began slowly running his arm down Bertrand's chest._  
_"Are you sure you're alright?" He nodded, but Robin must have noticed his gritted teeth. "B, if you don't want-"_  
 _"I don't want to lose control." He knew it sounded ridiculous. Robin blinked at him._  
 _"Isn't that kind of the point?" The breather bit his lip, considering the problem for a moment. "You could do it yourself if you'd rather…" Bertrand shook his head; he wanted Robin, now the option had been given he almost_  needed  _Robin… but he couldn't surrender his control so completely to another person, a breather no less._

_Robin wriggled slightly, freeing himself from Bertrand's embrace and reaching across to place his right hand into Bertrand's._  
_"Here. You're in control, and I get to touch you." The way he said it made it seem like a favour Bertrand was doing Robin, not the other way round. Yet there was no question that this young man was trying to help him, trying to make him feel good no matter how that had to happen. He turned his head to meet Robin's eyes._  
_"You're serious."_  
 _"Yeah." The silence dragged on a little too long, and Bertrand must have been staring a little too intently, because Robin suddenly blushed and tried to take his hand away. "Stupid idea, I know, but-"_

_The boy cut himself off mid-apology as Bertrand's grip on his hand tightened, moving to interlace their fingers, and dark eyes met blue once again.  
"Yes, please." Robin moaned, and Bertrand let him slowly manoeuvre their hands down the vampire's body and ghost his fingers over sensitive flesh again. He closed his eyes and their hands began to move._


	13. Chapter 13

The next two days passed in companionable research in their small library. Robin was almost certain that Bertrand had already checked all of these books for some way around the loyalty bond attached to the creation of a half-fang, but if he wanted to read through them all again Robin was prepared to help. It was bound to be less awkward than eventually admitting that they needed Vlad's library would be.

A knock at the door interrupted their studies, and they both stood at once to answer it. In the end, Bertrand sped ahead – he sometimes worried that they would be attacked and that Robin answering the door could end fatally. Robin always argued that at least  _he_  couldn't be injured by anything shiny that happened to be left on the path to their front door, ready to reflect dangerous light under their large, dark porch, but it seemed today he wasn't going to be given the chance.

By the time he'd made his leisurely way to the hallway, Bertrand was obviously deep in conversation with their visitor.

* * *

"Are you absolutely sure? It's really not as bad as you might think, and if it's the blood that's putting you off-" Erin interrupted him.  
"It's all soy. I know, thanks. I just can't. I'm going to miss everyone, but… it's better this way."  
"Alright. I owed it to Vlad to at least ask. Robin'll miss you, too."  
"Yeah. It was nice being breathers together. But I suppose… Congratulations, by the way. You must be happy."  
"Oh… Yeah. Thanks." She frowned at him and he realised he hadn't sounded quite enthusiastic enough.  
"Having second thoughts?" He shrugged.  
"It's a big step for him."  
"And you." He didn't get a chance to reply as Robin appeared at the other end of the hall.

"Erin! Are you leaving already? Is this the goodbye visit?" She nodded and allowed herself to be hugged.  
"Yeah. Sorry to leave you alone with the fangy types." Robin smiled weakly at her.  
"Will you keep in touch?" She bit her lip, and Bertrand realised she was struggling to hold back tears.  
"Maybe. I don't know, it might be better if I just…" They all stood for a moment in the awkward understanding that this was the end of an era. Erin leaving really brought it home that Robin was now the only breather permanently included in Vlad's household – he was only allowed because Bertrand's protection was enough to ensure that the less self-controlled staff would never lay a fang on him in a moment of weakness – and that one day soon, he wouldn't be.

She hugged Robin again and shook hands with Bertrand, and then Erin Noble stood teetering on the threshold of their home, about to disappear from their lives forever.  
"A big step," she said, looking straight at Bertrand, "but sometimes you need to take big steps to get where you want to be." With a wave, she was gone, leaving Robin confused and Bertrand thoughtful.

* * *

Robin had no idea what Erin had meant by her profound-sounding parting words, but he knew he was going to miss her. They'd become fairly close over the years, what with being the only two breathers living as part of Vlad's extended household  _and_  Erin being Robin's best friend's girlfriend, and it would be strange not having her to laugh about strange vampire quirks with. He supposed, though, that it would be him they'd be laughing at in a few months time anyway, so it wasn't the breather solidarity he was going to miss. He would miss  _Erin_ , the easy way she laughed and the way you knew she had your back if you needed her.

Bertrand slipped an arm around him as he shut the door, Erin having long ago turned the corner and been lost from sight, and Robin relaxed against his boyfriend's body, pressing his head against Bertrand's chest.  
"She had to go, right? She… if she'd stayed, she'd never have had a proper breather life and she wouldn't have wanted to be a vampire either. She… she had to."  
"Yes, Robin. She did." Bertrand stroked his hair reassuringly. "You'll be alright. Maybe she'll write, when she finds somewhere to settle." Robin nodded, aware that he was acting like a child, but his friend was leaving and he thought he sort of had a right to overreact a little bit. It wasn't as if everything else in his life was completely easy, after all – was it so much to ask that his friends stick around to support him?

He felt Bertrand's lips against his hair, dropping feather-light kisses, and realised he wasn't alone. Of course he wasn't. He had Vlad, his best friend, but most of all he had Bertrand. Bertrand would always look after him, he'd make sure he was OK.  
"We should go and see Vlad; I expect he needs a friend, too." That was Bertrand; always making sure everyone was OK. Except Erin, but then, that wasn't really an issue anymore.

There was another knock at the door.

* * *

Robin wrenched himself out of Bertrand's embrace and threw the door open, a hopeful smile on his face. The boy thought Erin had changed her mind, that much was clear – as if they would be the first people she told. No, the weary figure standing in the porch was paler and had darker hair.  
"Vlad," Robin managed to stammer after a moment. "Wh- um, come in, sit down, we were just in the library."

The Chosen One rarely visited their humble abode, all too often caught up in events at the main house. Still, he glanced around as Robin led the way back to the library and showed him to a comfortable armchair, Bertrand following behind.  
"You've rearranged things." Robin nodded anxiously and waited for Vlad to get round to explaining why he was there. Bertrand suspected he could guess; if Robin had been upset by Erin's departure, it could be nothing on how Vlad felt.  
"Can I get you a drink? Tea, water, soy blood?" Vlad nodded.  
"Soy blood would be great, thanks."

When Bertrand returned with the drinks, the two boys were deep in conversation, clearly consoling one another. He didn't feel like he belonged in that gathering – he'd grown to accept Erin's presence but they'd never really  _got along_  as such – so he simply placed a soy blood and a glass of water on the table nearest the pair and settled in another corner of the small room to return to his research. Still, he couldn't help but overhear the odd fragment of their discussion.  
"I thought – I mean, I thought we had more time-"  
"I know, mate, I thought-"  
"And maybe one day she'd decide she  _would_ stay…"  
"She wouldn't have been happy, Vlad-"  
"…I love her, Robin, I… we were in love, shouldn't that have been enough?"

There was nothing to say to that, and Bertrand felt a pang of sympathy for his boyfriend as he struggled in vain for words before giving up and simply pulling the Grand High Vampire into a hug. When, minutes later, they moved apart again, nobody commented on the tearstains on Vlad's cheeks. Who could blame him, after all?

Eventually, soy blood drained, Vlad stood to leave before remembering his excuse for visiting in the first place.  
"Bertrand?" The older vampire looked up, putting his book aside before rising. "This… is for you." His hand was trembling slightly as he held it out, and as Bertrand realised what it was his own limbs began to quiver.  
"Thank you." He managed to force his hand to close around the small item. Vlad nodded and left without further ado, and Robin came to see what Vlad had left them.

It was a little official booklet, neatly filled in with his own details, and Robin's, and dates for when it would become valid and when it would cease to be valid. The front cover bore two words in bold capitals, just in case there was any doubt.

_Bite Licence._


	14. Chapter 14

"Is that…?"  
"Yeah." Bertrand's voice wasn't as strong as he'd like. "Yeah, that's a Bite Licence."  
"With my name on it?"  
"Yes." He was holding Robin's death warrant in his hand. Robin let out a low sigh.  
" _Cool_. Do you think Vlad'll let us keep it?" Bertrand turned away, locking the little document securely into a drawer and pocketing the key.  
"I don't know. You can ask him if you like."  
"Yeah. I mean how brilliant is that? A real Bite Licence with my name on it, 's not everyone who's got one of those, is it?"

Bertrand didn't answer; how could he? He simply slumped back down into his armchair, rested his head in his hand, and stared at the book he'd been reading as if waiting for it to suddenly provide answers. He wasn't actually taking in any of the information on the page but that didn't really matter; he'd read and reread the book and there was nothing in there that would stop Robin becoming a mindless slave to his every whim after he killed him.  
"Bertrand?" He tried to make his eyes focus on the words, tried to concentrate on doing something productive for the boy, but it was no use. " _Bertrand_? B?" He looked up, irritated; couldn't Robin see he was trying to save him? "What's wrong?"  
"Nothing." He fixed his gaze back on the book.

Robin didn't understand. Bertrand should be excited, surely? They were one step closer to being together forever. As far as Robin was concerned, that was a good thing; the best thing ever. So why was Bertrand being like this?

Still, the vampire had his  _leave-me-alone-I-am-trying-to-read_  face on, and Robin thought it wise to let him get on with it until whatever strange mood had seized him had passed. Still, after half an hour, Bertrand was still glaring at the same page and Robin had had enough. He dropped his own book onto the table and crossed the room, crouching beside Bertrand's chair to take his hand. Bertrand barely glanced up at him as he pressed a gentle kiss to the vampire's knuckles.  
"Bertrand."  
"I don't want to talk about it."  
"B, please-"  
"I have to finish reading this."  
"B. I don't understand. What have I done wrong?" That got his attention, at least.  
"Wrong? You've done nothing wrong."  
"Then why-?"

Bertrand kept eye contact for a long while, and Robin watched the conflicting emotions battle it out behind his eyes before he finally spoke.  
"I don't want to talk about it." Robin sighed, taking the book from his boyfriend and setting it aside.  
"We'll start on Vlad's library tomorrow, we've read everything here." He climbed onto Bertrand's lap and kissed him, waiting for the vampire to relax under his touch. "You're working too hard. We've got months before that licence even becomes valid."  
"Mm." Bertrand didn't seem any happier.  
"B, come on. Look at me. Just… just look at me." The vampire seemed reluctant, but when his eyes finally met Robin's, the boy couldn't help but smile. "You have the most amazing eyes, you know?"

Bertrand felt his lips quirk upwards in an answering smile, hand reaching out to touch Robin's face, appreciating the warmth of his skin. Robin was still alive, was still  _Robin_ , and that was good.  
"What do my eyes have to do with anything?" His breather smirked.  
"They're finally looking at me, for one thing." Bertrand pulled him down into a kiss, realising how stupid he was being. How could he be angry with Robin for what he, Bertrand, was going to do? The boy's enthusiasm was misguided, perhaps, but that was no reason to treat him so coldly.  
"I'm sorry, Robin." His boyfriend didn't answer, just kissed him again, and Bertrand let him. Here, in his library, with his arms wrapped around Robin, he could forget all the crimes he'd committed, all the terrible things he was going to do in the future. Here, he was safe.

"Bertrand," Robin murmured suddenly against his cold skin, "do you trust me?"  
"Of course." He struggled to work out where this line of questioning was going. "More than I trust myself."  
"That's not difficult, B, you don't give yourself enough credit." Robin nibbled gently at his neck and Bertrand closed his eyes, savouring the sensation. "How much do you trust me?"  
"With my unlife." He froze, for a moment, waiting for Robin to pull away from his neck before continuing softly. "With  _Vlad's_  unlife." They both knew that the Chosen One was more important than Bertrand in the former tutor's own estimation. It seemed, though, that it wasn't enough for Robin this time.  
"How about with  _my_ unlife?" Their gazes locked for several long, silent seconds. Bertrand could think of nothing more valuable than Robin, nothing at all, and the idea of trusting  _anyone_  with this most precious thing was difficult. Yet he did trust Robin, he really did… and then what he'd actually said sank in.  
"You mean your life." Robin was a breather, he was still alive.  
"That too." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Do you trust me with me?" Bertrand frowned.  
"I… what… yes." Robin smiled, then, and nipped at his neck once more.  
"Good. I want you to trust me like I trust you." He rocked his hips slightly against Bertrand's. "And I want to go to our coffin now, please."

Bertrand made a fond little 'tsk' noise, then wrapped his arms securely around Robin and stood, the boy wrapping his legs around his waist and holding on tight.  
"Then I shall take you there. As my Robin commands."  
"Mm,  _your_  Robin." His breather was practically moaning into his ear. "I like that. And you're  _my_  Bertrand?"  
"Of course." He was caught off-guard by a rush of arousal and the pinch of teeth at his earlobe as Robin tangled a hand into his hair and growled.  
"Prove it."

 


	15. Chapter 15

"…What?" Robin smirked.  
"Prove it. Prove that you're mine, that you trust me." Bertrand hesitated, halfway up the stairs, then continued, lowering Robin back to his feet at the threshold of their coffin room to breathe into his ear.  
"How?" He was imagining the tremble in his own voice, he was sure, just as he was obviously imagining the way Robin's hand was shaking slightly as he reached out to caress Bertrand's throat.  
"Let me take control, just for a little while." He must be able to tell, the vampire thought, how he had tensed under the touch, how he was even now scrambling to reassure himself that this was Robin, that they were in their own room, that they were safe.

Still something inside him fought the idea, and Robin seemed to notice the fear in his eyes.  
"B, it's okay, you don't have to, it was just a thought." He stared at his boyfriend, the same boyfriend who was going to let him bite him, was going to trust him with the crucial task of  _killing him properly_ , and who was still determined not to push him out of his own comfort zone. Suddenly it didn't seem so terrifying, letting Robin have his way.  
"You know I'm stronger than you? If I want to get away…" Robin nodded.  
"You can. It's fine, Bertrand, really, I understand. You need to know you can protect us if you need to-"  
"I trust you to let me." Robin blinked at him, wondering if he meant what it sounded like he did. He took a deep, unnecessary breath – a calming habit he'd picked up from Robin more than anything – and nodded. "I'm all yours."

* * *

Robin stared at his lover for a moment, his open, slightly anxious expression and the way his fingers twitched at his sides. He wanted to ask if it was really alright, if he could really take the lead this time, but the phrase  _I'm all yours_  kept ripping every other thought from his head until all he could do was surge forwards and pin Bertrand against the wall, pressing their lips together and, after a brief pause, rocking his hips against the vampire's.  
" _Bertrand_ ," he moaned as he felt the former tutor relax against the wall, "oh, blood." Bertrand made a low growling sound and Robin took a moment to appreciate the way he could tell it wasn't a threat, after all these years of familiarising himself with every noise it was possible for Bertrand to make. Then he shifted slightly, adjusting the pressure between their bodies just enough to cause him to make another noise.

"Alright?" He was just checking, but Bertrand made a grab for his hips, steering his hands away at the last moment and flattening them against the wall.  
"If you want to be in control, Robin, take control." For a moment, his voice was as calm and smooth as it would be if this was just a training session and another thing Robin needed to remember. Then he shuddered. "Make the most of it, I might…" He swallowed hard, always ashamed to admit weakness, "panic."  
"Just tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?" Bertrand nodded, and Robin bit his lip, thinking. He'd never been completely in control in this situation before and he wasn't entirely sure what to do.

He settled at last on unbuttoning Bertrand's shirt, infuriatingly slowly, batting away the vampire's hands as they instinctively came up to assist him. Bertrand flattened himself against the wall again, but Robin could tell he was getting a little out of his depth and stepped back.  
"Sit in the coffin." He obeyed without hesitation, and Robin realised he had him, really had him in his power. He fought down a blush as he began to peel off his own clothing, keeping his eyes firmly on Bertrand as he stripped, trying to be as seductive as possible. He'd teased Bertrand like this before, of course, but not in a situation where Bertrand was so… compliant, where he would sit and watch and wait for orders.

He ran a hand over his own body before reaching for the zip of his trousers, pausing as Bertrand's own hand moved downwards.  
"Oh, no. No touching." It was bizarre, giving Bertrand commands, but the vampire obediently placed his hands on the rim of the coffin where Robin could see them. He continued undressing, watching Bertrand struggle with himself, clearly desperate to touch himself, if not Robin. Robin wouldn't let him, though, even when he ran out of clothing to remove.

He was simply glad that the vampire hadn't bothered putting his boots on that day. It made it far easier to pull his lover's trousers from his legs and, gradually, make him as naked as Robin himself was. Bertrand's hands were twitching on the coffin edge now, desperate to reach out, but Robin just smirked at him.  
"See how I feel, now?" The vampire nodded, moaning softly as Robin climbed into the coffin and lay beside him, not quite touching him. "Enjoying it?" Bertrand looked as if he couldn't decide  _what_  his answer to that should be, so Robin took pity on him and began trailing his fingers over cold skin.

* * *

Bertrand had never felt so completely safe and yet so far beyond his own control. Robin hadn't hemmed him in, hadn't pinned him once they'd moved away from the wall, hadn't used any of the tactics Bertrand usually resorted to in order to establish his dominance in the coffin. Instead, he was using Bertrand's own word against him, giving him orders he felt unable to disobey… He was unwilling to resist. No matter how much he wanted to touch, to touch Robin, to touch himself, to do  _anything_  to relieve the tension building up in his lower body.

Yes, he understood now why Robin whimpered each time Bertrand made him keep his hands on the coffin walls. He understood the glorious frustration of someone else controlling his pleasure. As for whether he was enjoying it – it was a difficult question to answer, because it felt so good and at the same time was so frustrating – and then his body burned with sensation as Robin ran a careful hand down his chest, barely touching, but enough to make Bertrand's hips rock upwards in pleasure. As his hand ran lower, Bertrand forgot himself for a moment, clutching at Robin's back – and moaned desperately as the boy took his hand away completely.  
"No touching, Bertrand, not until I say." The boy didn't look completely sure of himself, but Bertrand obediently lay back in the coffin and braced his hands against the sides, rewarded as Robin resumed his gentle stroking motions.

It seemed an age before Robin finally propped himself above the vampire, wrapping his hand around him, and when he did Bertrand could only beg.  
"Please, Robin, I want to touch you…" Robin paused for an agonising moment, his vampiric lover trying not to squirm against his hand, and then nodded. Bertrand couldn't touch enough of his breather's warm body, couldn't give him enough pleasure. His hands raced over as much skin as they could before one finally took hold of Robin in a way that made the boy shiver. Then, suddenly, their hands were moving together, bumping against each other with the closeness of their bodies, and Robin's mouth was on his, moaning and grunting and making all the delicious noises Bertrand had only ever heard when he was ruling the coffin… until now, it seemed.

"Mm- close-" Bertrand nodded in agreement, incapable of speech, and let out a guttural moan of his own as Robin's hand finally brought him to a mind-blowing climax. He did his best to keep a steady rhythm with his own hand as his vision blurred and he cried out, and was rewarded with an answering cry of pleasure. Something warm and sticky drenched his abdomen and he closed his eyes, savouring the sensation, hand falling to rest at his side. Robin curled against him, head on his chest, before reaching up to press a kiss against his cheek.

"You did it. Love you." Bertrand realised, with a dreamy sort of jolt, that he had indeed let Robin take over and nothing awful had happened. If it felt like this… he would have to do it again some time.  
"I love you too, Robin." He waited a moment, but there was no reply until, a few moments later, a soft snore reached his ears. He wrapped his arm more tightly around his lover and drifted off to sleep himself.


	16. Chapter 16

The next day, they began working in Vlad's library, searching for something that would ensure Robin's free will survived Bertrand's bite.  
"Perhaps you should just let Vlad-"  
"No." That was the end of that discussion.

Robin kept disappearing for hours at a time, every few days, and Bertrand learnt not to question him when he came home smelling of chips, or flowers, or cologne. He trusted Robin; of course he did, and if Robin wasn't telling him where he was going, there was probably a good reason for it. Pressing for explanations only yielded lies anyway. He simply buried himself in his research and hoped to find a solution soon.

"B, relax." His beloved breather came to stand behind him, hands working softly at the knotted muscles in his shoulders. Bertrand was wound tighter than a coiled spring at the moment, and Robin's massage techniques could only relax him so far before they simply became distracting. "That licence isn't even valid for another four, nearly five months. What's the rush?"

The vampire sighed heavily; if they really had to have this discussion, he'd have preferred it to happen later. Much later, when he'd solved the loyalty problem. This was only going to lead to temptation.  
"Actually, Vlad… gave us a bit of leeway there." He didn't know why, or how he'd even managed to get it past Council, but the usual one-month time frame for these exceptional licences had been altered for them. "It's been valid for two weeks, and it'll last another six months." Robin's eyes widened, processing the information.  
"Why didn't you tell me?" He shook his head, frustrated.  
"I didn't want you to rush into anything. I still don't. I mean it, Robin, six months."  
"Yeah, alright. So there's still no hurry. Still, you could have bitten me any time in the last two weeks and it would have been fine?" Bertrand growled under his breath; as far as he was concerned, him biting Robin had the potential to be anything  _but_  fine.

He decided to change the subject.  
"Are you going out tomorrow?" Robin nodded.  
"Yeah, for a little bit." Bertrand turned back to his book.  
"Home at the usual time?" Another nod. "I'll get dinner ready, then."  
"Thanks, Bertrand. I'll do it the day after." Bertrand raised an eyebrow and he puffed himself up, indignant. "Oi, I'm an amazing cook! I do a great-"  
"Fish and chips, from the place on the corner, I know." He smiled to show him he didn't mean it, and kept reading.  
"Fine, you know what? I'll prove it. You stay here for a bit longer, I'll go home and cook up a storm."  
"I'll come when I smell the smoke, shall I?" Robin stuck his tongue out at him.  
"Oh, ha, ha. Very funny. Watch it, you, or you won't get any." He leant in to claim a kiss. "Dinner, that is." Then he was gone, off to show what his culinary skills could produce, leaving Bertrand in peace to read as anxiously as he liked.

* * *

Robin clattered two pans together absent-mindedly. Now he'd talked himself up a bit, he couldn't think of a single thing he could cook to show off his prodigious talent in the kitchen. He thought for a moment, then sighed and reached for the phone.  
"Alright Mum? Yeah, I'm alright, I'm just trying to cook something special for Bertrand and I wondered if you had any suggestions… Tell Dad I heard that. 'Call the fire brigade', what a comedian."

Half an hour later, he heard the door open and close.  
"In the kitchen, and nothing's on fire, before you ask." The vampire came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist as he stirred the pot, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.  
"Is your dad still making that joke?"  
"You know my dad, never lets go of a good joke." Bertrand frowned.  
"It's not a good joke. So what are you making, and how proud is your mum?" Robin chuckled, turning in his lover's arms.  
"Just spaghetti Bolognese. That alright? I need to go shopping while I'm out tomorrow, thought there was more stuff here than there-" He was cut off by Bertrand's lips on his own.  
"It's great. Don't worry, I'll get the shopping." Robin frowned.  
"But daylight-"  
"I'll need to borrow your laptop, of course. May I?" Of course; he'd forgotten they did actually still live in the normal, modern world where shopping could be delivered to your door.  
"You've got your own account on it, you don't have to ask." He always did, though; Bertrand was always sure to respect the things that were distinctly Robin's, and since he wasn't entirely confident around computers, that definitely included the laptop. "Of course you can. Get some chocolate?"  
"If you like."

Dinner was excellent, if Robin said so himself – he did, repeatedly – and Bertrand was keen to add his own compliments to those of the boastful chef. He didn't like the way his dad teased about his cooking, Robin knew, but it was hard to explain to Bertrand that it was just one of those things – nothing more than a joke between people close enough to get away with it. Bertrand had never really had that kind of relationship with anyone, at least until he'd met first Vlad, and then Robin, and he was still so protective of Robin against anyone who dared so much as smirk at him. It was nice, sweet in a way, but he wished Bertrand wouldn't get himself so worked up over little things. He supposed it was a by-product of spending so many years worrying about the big things all alone.

He reached out and squeezed Bertrand's hand, surprising his lover.  
"What's that for?" The vampire was smiling softly across the table, their hands linked between them, no doubt curious as to what had prompted the sudden affectionate gesture.  
"Nothing. Just for being you." They decided to leave the washing up – Bertrand said he'd get to it in the morning, since Robin had cooked – and retire for the night. As had become usual, Robin didn't ask if Bertrand had found the answer since they'd parted, and Bertrand didn't bother to tell him that he hadn't.

The next day, Robin woke first, a rare event in anyone's book. He decided to pop over to Vlad's library and get started on the research for the day before he went out; perhaps he could leave the solution with Bertrand as he slipped away. It would make the vampire feel better about being left alone, at any rate. He scribbled a note and balanced it carefully on the older man's chest, aware that he wouldn't be able to do it so easily if Bertrand was breathing. Then he dropped a kiss to his lover's forehead and crept from the room.

He didn't much like all this sneaking around, but sometimes these things just had to be done. Bertrand, to his credit, hadn't asked him what was going on, so he hadn't actually had to lie to him very often. It was nice to be trusted, especially given how suspicious his boyfriend always was of anyone else's motives. It made him feel terrible about the way he was deceiving him, but it wouldn't be forever.

As the morning wore on, he decided to leave a little early and take his time getting where he was going, leaving the book he'd been skimming open on the table in Vlad's library. He could enjoy the sunshine on the way. He glanced guiltily over his shoulder towards the little home he shared with Bertrand and set off towards town.


	17. Chapter 17

Washing up done, Bertrand was just passing the phone on his way out when it rang.  
"Hello?" He frowned as the line clicked and went dead.  _Number withheld_. Still, he supposed wrong numbers happened now and then. He had a library to investigate.

He wasn't sure whether to laugh or throw something when he spotted the book Robin had abandoned. It was a useless tome – an antiquarian's dream, of course, but nothing more than an extremely old copy of a basic alchemy book – and it was frustrating to think that Robin had wasted his time reading it rather than potentially finding the answer in any of the more useful books in the room. He ignored it and got on with his own studies, but after a few hours he figured he might as well put it away. They were guests in this library, after all, and should keep it as tidy as they could.

He flicked idly through a few pages, mostly so he could tell Robin he had, and stopped short as a sentence caught his eye. His brow furrowed and he reached for another book, running his finger down the index until he found what he wanted and scanning the relevant page.

When Vlad walked into his library an hour later, Bertrand had to peer at him over the top of about twenty open books spread across the table, pausing in his frantic note-taking.  
"Vlad! Look at this, see if it makes sense?" The Grand High Vampire looked as if he wanted to comment on the irony of checking his former tutor's work, but settled for rolling his eyes and leaning in to read. Bertrand watched as he took in the salient points and his eyes widened.  
"Bertrand, this could actually work." He grinned. "You've done it!"

Bertrand shook his head.  
"I've still got to get everything together and drink the thing – apparently a little a day for a few weeks should do it – but it's possible, the loyalty can be cured. Robin gets to keep his mind." He allowed a broad smile to spread across his face, barely believing it was true, but Vlad was reading again, further down the page of hastily-scrawled notes.  
"Yeah, and you'll have to find a way to sort the side-effects out." Bertrand was still beaming, unphased.  
"Maybe, but even if I can't, it's worth it."  
"Have you  _read_  what you've written? This could seriously mess you up."

He knew. The strange concoction that would protect Robin when he bit him relied on disabling certain aspects of the vampire physiology – in this case, it would affect Bertrand's powers, his reflexes, his stamina – it might even slow his mind. But that was alright, it was all temporary… or at least, there was a 50-50 chance it was temporary.

Alright, so there was a reason the ancient remedy had fallen out of use – around half of the vampires who'd taken it in the past had never recovered, had been severely weakened for the rest of their unlives. Vampirekind as whole had taken one look at them and thought that actually, this whole loyalty thing was pretty convenient, as it happened. But they'd all been looking out for themselves, first and foremost, and Bertrand wasn't.

This could save Robin.

* * *

When Robin got home, there was a distinct lack of dinner-cooking smell, and as he collapsed into a seat he noticed that Bertrand wasn't even there to make him a cup of tea. He'd grown accustomed, in the weeks this uncomfortable state of affairs had dragged on, to being met at the door with a mug and a biscuit. Bertrand had learnt to assume that he'd be shattered when he got home from his excursion and usually rushed to wait on him hand and foot until he recovered. Robin always did his best to make it up to him later.

Tonight, though, the place was empty, and it was all he could do to collapse on the sofa and catch his breath. He should, he knew, be making himself some tea, plenty of sugar, keeping his fluids up, trying to get his energy back up to its normal level before Bertrand could come home and see the extent of the toll his secret activities were taking on him. He didn't want Bertrand to find out what was going on, not this way.

The door opened and Robin hauled himself up into a sitting position as his boyfriend walked in, a huge grin on his face. It slipped a fraction as Bertrand took in his appearance, and then the vampire was gone, off into the kitchen to put the kettle on. He smiled back, trying to suppress the guilt rising up inside him as he took the proffered mug of tea and took a grateful sip. Bertrand was wonderful, so good to him, and he was sneaking around behind his back? Still, there was no changing things now. The damage was done, and suddenly stopping what he was doing wouldn't undo the lies.

"What's got you grinning?" Bertrand had settled on the sofa beside him and was indeed still beaming at him.  
"That book you left out earlier… I think we've found the answer." Robin slopped his tea everywhere, scrambling to mop up the worst of it before deciding he didn't really care and abandoning his mug on the nearest flat surface to throw his arms around his lover.  
"You're serious? That's brilliant!" Bertrand made a soft noise of agreement into his mouth, unable to do much else as Robin attacked his lips with his own, tea forgotten. He was almost sitting on his lap by the time Bertrand made another noise, fond but disapproving, and pushed him away.  
"Drink your tea and I'll explain."

It was all Robin could do to pick up his mug and sip, but the moment he did he realised how much he still needed the energy it would give him.  
"It's… well, I suppose you'd call it a potion. It's fairly well-referenced in a variety of Vlad's books, but it took that one you left out for me to put two and two together. Nobody's used it in years but from what I can make out – and believe me, I spent all afternoon reading – there's never been any instance of the bite victim becoming loyal when it's been used." Robin grinned.  
"No side-effects at all?"  
"You'll be completely safe, Robin." His face darkened slightly. "As long as I can keep control, that is."  
"I know I'm safe with you." He kissed him, no longer tired. "So why doesn't everyone do it?"

Bertrand hesitated for a moment; it seemed he hadn't stopped to wonder.  
"Convenience, I suppose. I'll have to drink this every day for at least a few weeks before we can be sure it'll be effective." He frowned, then pulled a face Robin could only describe as a grimace. "Oh, blood, it probably tastes disgusting, too. The things I do for you." The last was said with a fond smile, though, and Robin leant in to kiss him again, trailing his lips down his lover's neck.  
"Let me make it up to you, then."


	18. Chapter 18

Robin's lips were at his throat, teeth grazing lightly as he reached the point where neck met shoulder, and Bertrand sighed contentedly. Robin would be his forever, and he wouldn't have to lose himself. The boy moved to straddle his lap, driving thoughts of everything Robin would still be surrendering from his mind for a moment as his hands came round to grasp at his hips.

He allowed Robin to nip at his neck for a little longer before moving to claim his lips, the breather moaning into his mouth and rocking his hips just enough to drive Bertrand crazy. He closed his eyes and let Robin do what he wanted, which seemed to be more neck-nibbling… but then Robin's head dropped onto his lover's shoulder as he murmured something sleepy and apologetic.

"What was that?" Robin must have heard the smile in his voice, because he smiled back from where he was nuzzling against Bertrand's neck as he answered.  
"'M sorry, I'm just tired." He ran a hand through his lover's hair, trying to reassure him that he had nothing to be sorry for. "And dizzy." Bertrand leant back until Robin sat up again, disorientated by the movement. He peered anxiously into those precious dark eyes he was so fond of.  
"Have you eaten today?" He could see Robin thinking about it, which could only mean one thing. "Right, you stay here, I'm going to get us some fish and chips. Alright?" Robin mumbled something incoherent and slumped onto the sofa.

He was alright, he insisted, so Bertrand simply resolved to get their food as fast as possible and come straight home. Robin would be alright for ten minutes, surely.

* * *

Robin closed his eyes, sprawled across the sofa, just for a minute, and found his mind drifting back to the early days of their relationship.

_"B, I feel better now, I promise." The vampire didn't seem convinced, fussing with the blanket to make sure his lover was completely wrapped up and covered. "Seriously. It's like you've never known anyone who's got a cold before."_   
_"You're still a little warm." Bertrand was dodging his statement, he realised._   
_"I'm a breather, 'course I'm warm. You really haven't been around sick people much, have you?"_

_Bertrand frowned at him._   
_"Last time I was around sick people, most of them died. And I couldn't even dr-" he cut himself off, but Robin reached out from under the blanket to take his hand._   
_"Drink them?" The tutor looked embarrassed. "It's alright. I know you're a vampire, remember? I know all of it. Maybe not the details, but I understand." Bertrand was staring at him as if he'd never seen his like before, and Robin liked that, but there was something else he'd like more. "I'm better. I've been alright for two days now, just stop fussing and get under here with me."_

_The vampire slipped under the blanket with him and Robin pulled him as close as he could._   
_"Let me touch you?" His hand ghosted over Bertrand's trousers even as he spoke, and his lover moaned softly. "It's been a week, B, a week without touching you." Bertrand had spent that week alternating between trying to make him comfortable and sitting across the room, watching him as if looking away would stop the boy's breathing. It had been sweet, in a completely unnecessary kind of way – he'd had a cold, for blood's sake, not cholera – but now he didn't want sweetness. He wanted spice, and seduction, and Bertrand._

_Fortunately, it soon became clear that Bertrand was feeling exactly the same, only a little more afraid that Robin was at death's door. Robin did his best to disabuse him of that notion, lips and tongue and teeth trailing carefully over Bertrand's upper body as soon as he'd managed to relieve him of his shirt. Bertrand pushed him back down onto the mattress they'd dragged in to spare Robin the cold stone floor and began to reciprocate with enthusiasm. Robin sighed and moaned and whimpered as their hands fumbled for one another under the blanket, body jerking violently as he managed to unfasten Bertrand's trousers and the vampire's cold hand slipped inside his own._

_It didn't take long, after such a long week of separation, for the pair of them to become completely incoherent and spill into blissful oblivion, Bertrand crashing down to collapse beside his lover at the last moment. They would have to wash the blanket, but it didn't matter. They were together, and for the first time in a week, Robin felt pleasantly light-headed rather than dizzy. Beside him, Bertrand let out a little moan._   
_"Robin…" It was almost enough to get him going again, and he couldn't handle that right now._   
_"Shh, Bertrand, stop it."_   
_"Robin, Robin-"_

_"Robin!" He blinked back into consciousness to find Bertrand standing over him, holding two plates of steaming fish and chips. "Come on, just eat and then you can go back to sleep if you want." He hauled himself upright with difficulty, mind still clouded with sleep, and followed Bertrand to the table in silence._

Bertrand was far from silent.  
"And we're going to bed the moment you've got food in you, we can talk in the morning. You must have been shattered." He smirked, and Robin wondered if he'd been doing that telepathy thing again. "Seemed like a nice dream, though." Oh, if Robin had had the energy he'd have killed him for teasing about dreams he shouldn't have been privy to, but it was only a shared memory anyway, so he decided to let it slide in favour of starting on his meal.  
"Yeah, it was."


	19. Chapter 19

Robin woke the next morning to find Bertrand watching him. He suspected that this should have been in some way creepy, but it was  _Bertrand_  and they were beyond creepy. As the vampire realised that he was awake, he tightened the arm around his waist a fraction in an affectionate squeeze.  
"Morning. Feeling better?" Robin frowned, casting his mind back to the previous night, before remembering with a blush.  
"Yeah. Sorry, I just... I was tired, and..." Bertrand cut him off with a kiss on the forehead.  
"You don't have to apologise." Still, he couldn't help feeling there was something he was supposed to have been celebrating... it took a while, but his face suddenly split into a wide grin.  
"You found a cure." Bertrand smiled softly back at him.  
"There's a cure."

Robin couldn't quite believe it; it seemed their dreams were within reach at last.  
"And it'll definitely stop the loyalty?" The vampire nodded. "And there are no side-effects?"  
"It shouldn't have any negative impact on you at all." Robin, however, had lived among vampires – and with this one in particular – for too long to ignore the very specific phrasing of his answer.  
"And you?" Bertrand sighed and he knew he'd hit the nail on the head.

* * *

Bertrand had hoped that they could spend some time just being happy about the breakthrough before he had to tell Robin all the details. He'd even thought he might be able to work out a way around some of the side-effects before he had to break the news, and thereby soften the blow. Robin, however, was too clever for him, and he had little choice but to fill him in. By the time he finished speaking, Robin was staring aghast.  
"You can't do that, that sounds horrific."  
"I can try to find a way around most of the problems, but Robin, this could be the only way."  
"You're not doing it unless you find a safe way."  
"I'll do my best, but if anything I try could even  _slightly_  affect its efficiency..."  
"You'll change it anyway?"  
"I'll risk my wellbeing over yours any day, Robin. You know that." His breather pouted for a while, clearly considering the idea.  
"Then we'll have to find a cure for the cure."  
"And if we can't-?" Robin shook his head.  
"We will."

Bertrand took his time over breakfast, no longer in a hurry to get to the library and find a way to save Robin. Robin, however, couldn't seem to eat fast enough, and was at increasing risk of choking himself.  
"What's the rush-?"  
"Library." And then he'd gone right back to stuffing his face as the phone began to ring. Bertrand picked it up, since Robin was clearly busy filling his stomach.  
"Hello?" Silence, then a click on the line and the dial tone. He tried to redial, but the caller hadn't left their number.

"That's the second time that's happened in two days." Robin looked up at him for the briefest of seconds, expression unreadable, before turning back to his food. As they were leaving for Vlad's, though, the phone began to ring again.  
"You go ahead," Robin insisted, "I'll get it and catch you up." Then he swept up the phone, and Bertrand hesitated in the doorway, waiting for the inevitable hang-up. "Hello?" His boyfriend fell silent for a moment and Bertrand felt a tiny surge of victory - it  _wasn't_  just him messing up the modern technology, he  _could_ use a phone – but then Robin turned back towards him. "Hang on a second. Seriously, B, go, I'll catch you up."

He went, but he couldn't have told you what any of the books he flicked through actually said, even when Robin sidled in half an hour later without a word on the subject of his mysterious phone call. What had Robin got mixed up in?

* * *

Robin  _hated_  research days. He really did. He understood the necessity, of course, but leafing through big old dusty books was hardly his idea of fun. Today, though, it was vitally important. Today, it was all about saving Bertrand. If he couldn't find a way to make sure his lover was safe taking this potion, he couldn't let him do it... and that would leave him with two options: grow old and die, leaving Bertrand alone – unthinkable – or have Vlad bite him instead after all.

He couldn't really explain why he was so averse to that second idea; all he knew was that biting was a very intimate thing, something he'd never expected to share with his best friend – well, not since they were kids, at any rate – and that there was nobody he wanted to sink their fangs into him but Bertrand. Besides, he'd meant what he'd said when they'd first discussed it; Vlad probably  _wouldn't_  have a clue how to turn a breather. He'd probably make a right hash of it, if Robin survived at all. Robin was all for supporting Vlad and all that, but he also didn't want to look like he'd been mauled – or worse, wind up dead – after the bite. No, it had to be Bertrand. But he couldn't risk the other man's unlife the way Bertrand clearly wanted to.

There had to be a solution in one of these books somewhere. And Robin Branagh was determined to find it.

That might have been why he reacted so badly to Bertrand distracting him with a conversation he wasn't particularly keen on having at all, let alone right now when he was trying to read – suddenly he understood Bertrand's irritation whenever he interrupted him.  
"Have you decided what we're going to tell your family, Robin?"  
"Can't we deal with one problem at a time-?"  
"It's important-"  
"Not right now, Bertrand! Just let me read, alright?" He must have still been tired from the previous day; that was the only explanation. He knew he was being unreasonable, but he couldn't seem to stop it.  
"Is everything-?"  
"I'm trying to help you, can't you just let me get on with it? If you weren't so intent on being a stupid, noble, garlic-munching  _idiot_ -"  
"I'm sor-"  
"Oh, take your sorries and go and sit in the sunlight, will you? I've got enough on my plate without-" He looked up from his book, horrified by his own words, just in time to see the door swing closed. Bertrand was gone.

* * *

Bertrand du Fortunesa did not cry. He'd rather his eyes started producing holy water than  _tears_. So he supposed it was only fitting that that was what it felt like as the water ran down his cheeks.

He'd sped home and found himself at a complete loss as to what to do there. Standing in their hallway, he'd snatched the phone up – last call duration 28:37, number withheld – and hurled it at a wall with a snarl of frustration. Who was Robin taking mysterious calls from? Why wasn't Bertrand allowed to hear? Was the caller the same person Robin seemed to be sneaking away to meet, and what power did they have over Robin? If the boy was in trouble of some sort, he'd hoped he'd confide in Bertrand. He must know Bertrand would do anything for him, to protect him. What was so terrible that he couldn't even tell his lover?

He only let a few tears fall before brushing them angrily aside and throwing the breakfast things into the sink with such force that they smashed. He couldn't bring himself to care. Robin had told him to go and sit in the sunlight, had called him names, had snapped at him when all he wanted to do was help. It seemed he couldn't do anything right anymore, and even finding a cure hadn't been enough to make up for his apparent failings. He didn't understand; things had seemed so good, and now...

He wondered if Robin wanted to leave him, if he wanted to live. He supposed if that was the case he'd have to let him go.

And if that was the case, it wouldn't matter if he smashed a little more furniture.


	20. Chapter 20

When Robin came home, his first thought was that they must have been burgled. Then he looked again, and realised that for the table to end up where it was, it would need to have been thrown with vampire strength. Since the only other vampire with a standing invitation to their house was Vlad, and Robin had just seen him, he could only conclude that they hadn't been burgled at all.  _Bertrand_  had smashed the place up.

And honestly, he'd done a great job of it. It looked as if a small tornado had torn through the living room. He noted with some surprise that his laptop was sitting safely on the bookcase, even though he could have sworn it had been on the table when he'd left this morning. Similarly, two matching vampire teddy bears sat untouched on the closed lid of the double coffin, apparently indifferent to the general wreckage around them. Robin hesitated; he'd thought giving Bertrand an hour or two to cool down would be a good idea, but now he wasn't sure he was ready to face the apparently destructive fury of his boyfriend. Still, he would have to do it sooner or later. He lifted the teddies and slid the lid from the coffin, bracing himself for shouting.

The coffin was empty. Bertrand wasn't in the house.

* * *

_Bertrand couldn't believe it; he must have heard wrong.  
"What do you mean, my house?" Vlad had smirked.  
"Well, yours and Robin's, I thought you'd want to share-"  
"You're giving us a house?" Robin had seemed just as surprised as Bertrand himself was, but Vlad seemed to think it was nothing.  
"Yeah, well, my official residence has a ton of cottages attached, of course I want you to have one. If only so the rest of us don't have to listen to y-" Erin had smacked the Chosen One playfully on the arm, murmuring into his ear with a smile.  
"People who live in glass houses, _Vlad the Vocal _..." Bertrand had grimaced at that, and Robin shot him a look that suggested he'd have to fill him in later. Sometimes vampiric hearing really was a curse. Still, it was true that their own space would be nice._

_When they'd got everything at the main house set up to Vlad's liking, he handed Bertrand a key and pointed straight along a shaded path heading almost due east. Bertrand had seen the general layout of the cottages before, of course, when he was helping to arrange security, but Vlad had refused to be drawn on which was to be theirs.  
"Just keep following that path straight to the end, and that's yours. I hope it's alright." Erin grinned and pulled him back into the main residence to rearrange the armchairs in the lounge, or for some equally flimsy excuse, and the two boys were left to discover their new home together._

_"This is really ours?" They stood, hand in hand, just outside the porch, staring up at what could be seen of the building without stepping out from under the shade of the trees, and then Bertrand realised it was the middle of the night and they could get a proper look. Just outside the avenue of trees they stood, admiring the general privacy of the place and the solidness of the walls. He couldn't blame Robin for questioning it, really. It was hard to believe it could be theirs.  
"One way to find out." He held up the key, handing it to Robin to do the honours. The boy's hand was shaking as he fitted it into the lock and turned it. The door swung open, but Robin didn't go in._

_"What's wrong?" His breather turned back to him with a smile.  
"If I go in first, you'll need an invitation. Not a great start. Together?" Bertrand took his hand again and they crossed the threshold at exactly the same time._

_The next few weeks passed in a flurry of catalogues and antiques fairs, not to mention a very memorable trip to Ikea that resulted, after 7 hours and a lot of worrying about sunlight from Bertrand, only in the purchase of a wardrobe – Bertrand's ride home, as it turned out, and they were thankful for Renfield and the hearse – and a coffee table for the lounge. They'd built the latter from flatpack together, squabbling over lost screws and where exactly side A was anyway, and then they'd stood and admired their handiwork with a quiet sort of pride._

_Neither of them had ever imagined that that same coffee table would one day find itself, battered and bruised, lodged in a fireplace with one of the legs missing._

* * *

"Bertrand! BERTRAND!" Robin knew he looked and sounded like a lunatic; he also knew that advertising Bertrand's absence wasn't the smartest thing he'd ever done given how tempted some of the other vampires on site could get; he didn't care. What if he'd taken Robin's words like a stake to the heart and actually gone to sit in the sunlight?

He didn't know why he'd said it, he'd just been tired and frustrated and his phone call had done nothing to ease his guilt – Bertrand had no idea what he was sneaking off for, but he hadn't asked questions or complained when Robin skipped out on research or couldn't manage to indulge in their usual nocturnal activities, he'd just made tea and looked after him and found a cure that could ruin his unlife just to save Robin's – and thinking about dealing with his family had just been the last straw. For a moment, it had all been too much.

Now their house lay in disarray – some of Bertrand's possessions didn't look like they'd ever be the same again, though Robin's were strangely unharmed – and he was beginning to panic. What if his beautiful, wonderful vampire was dust? What if he never saw him again? He couldn't go on without him, knowing he'd caused this with a few careless words. He  _needed_  Bertrand, more than he needed air, and not being able to find him was driving Robin mad. He must have run around half of Vlad's estate already; he could see the westernmost cottage coming into view at the very end of the long tunnel he was running through. Halfway to it, there was an intersection.

It was with no little relief that Robin, glancing sideways as he ran past the turning, noticed a fine leather boot sticking out from a small recess he knew contained a bench. He didn't slow down, almost tripping over himself in his haste to change direction, pounding along the path until he could ascertain that Bertrand was, indeed, sprawled across a bench looking dejected, and not dust.

He knew he should apologise, should say something,  _anything_  to make things better between them. But he was so relieved to see his lover undead that no words would come. Instead, he pounced.

* * *

Bertrand had heard the boy's approach, of course, but he'd assumed there would be an awkward stand-off and it didn't seem worth looking up just for Robin to stand across the corridor and tell him he had to get out, that he couldn't deal with the bite, but could he keep the licence anyway because it was  _really cool_. So the kiss took him by surprise, all bruising intensity and something that tasted a lot like tears. He curled his hands into Robin's hair by instinct more than anything, pulling him closer, and only when Robin pulled away for breath did he remember that they'd been fighting at all.

It was hard to stay angry while Robin's mournful brown eyes were turned on him with such a pleading expression, though. He reached up to brush a tear from Robin's cheek with tender fingers as the boy smiled weakly at him.  
"Why are  _you_  crying?" He hadn't meant it to sound so accusatory, but Robin's face crumpled.  
"I'm so sorry, Bertrand,  _blood_ , you have to know I didn't mean it, I thought – I thought you'd really gone to sit in the sun – please, I love you, don't hate me, I don't know what came over m-" He cut his babbling off by returning the kiss; he got the idea.  
"I couldn't hate you if I tried. I just don't understand why you hate  _me_." Robin blinked at him.  
"I don't hate you. I was just... I don't know what I'm doing about my parents and I was trying to do research and please, B, don't leave me."

He reached around and pulled the boy right onto his lap, smoothing his hair gently.  
"I'm not leaving you." Robin curled against him, sniffling softly, relieved. "But I think, later, we need to talk about this." With Robin cuddled so close, it was tempting to shrug the whole argument off, to pretend nothing was wrong, but there was clearly something they needed to address. He just wasn't quite sure what it was yet. "But for now, let's go home. I should warn you, it's-"  
"-a bit of a mess," Robin finished for him. "I know. We'll sort it out."

Bertrand hoped so.


	21. Chapter 21

Their coffin seemed the logical place to go, and not just because it was the only part of the house Robin was absolutely sure wasn't covered in splinters.  
"Mm," he managed, as Bertrand climbed in to pin him down, "are we okay?" The way Bertrand growled and shifted a little more of his weight down onto him was not entirely reassuring. His lips, however, caught at Robin's earlobe, teasing gently until the tiniest scrape of teeth made him whimper. "B-" he began, but he didn't get any further as Bertrand claimed his lips before sitting up.

Strong hands ran down Robin's chest, deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt as they went, Bertrand's movements firmer and surer than he ever remembered them being before. Robin shivered as Bertrand pushed his shirt aside, flattening a cold hand over his pounding heart. His lover was all dark seduction at the moment and while he knew he should probably be afraid, given the violence Bertrand had proven himself capable of while alone in the house and the fact that he was almost certainly still upset... he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but safe, here, with Bertrand tracing patterns on his skin with his fingers.

Bertrand stared hungrily down at him, eyes black and cold, and Robin took a moment to appreciate the unearthly beauty of the vampire before turning his mind briefly to  _how hungry Bertrand might be_. He'd had breakfast; he couldn't be craving blood too badly, could he? Robin was sure he could resist the temptation of his pulse, racing just beneath his skin. But then Bertrand was suddenly very close, lips barely a hair's breadth from his neck, and Robin tensed. He wanted to scream; every instinct was telling him to run, run and never turn back. Instead, he scrunched his eyes tightly shut and waited for the pain.

* * *

Bertrand  _felt_  the moment Robin decided not to fight him, felt him take one deep breath and still, felt his muscles relax as if he was sinking into a particularly soft pillow. He pulled back with difficulty – he hadn't expected Robin's surrender to be so arousing – and trailed kisses down his torso instead, stopping to tug at a nipple with his teeth. Robin made a noise of pure lust that sent shivers down Bertrand's spine, and then the boy's eyes flew open.

Suddenly, they were tussling – for a moment it was almost like being back in the training room at Garside – and it didn't take long for Robin to use the sides of the coffin to get a better position and turn the tables on Bertrand. Suddenly it was the vampire who was pinned to the coffin base, and Robin was pulling at his clothing, clearly impatient. Bertrand allowed himself to be undressed, then grabbed Robin's hips and dragged him back down until he could switch their positions once more.

Robin looked a bit put out by this turn of events, but Bertrand felt he  _deserved_ to get his own way this time. Robin had yelled at him, after all; Robin was keeping secrets from him. Robin was going to have to deal with Bertrand taking control for a while. And take control he did, blocking Robin's attempts to roll them back over while he relieved the boy of what little clothing he was still wearing and set to work rendering him helpless through the careful application of pleasure.

The boy stopped struggling and collapsed against the base of the coffin, moaning desperately as Bertrand touched and licked and kissed. Before long he was whimpering, bucking his hips upwards and begging the vampire to – what, to stop? To slow down? Or to continue? He chose the latter, anyway, moving a hand to press down firmly on Robin's shoulder, keeping him in place.  
"B-  _fog_ \- B-!" He froze for a moment, face expressionless as Robin's contorted, as his breather writhed beneath him, desperate for more.

"Still want me to go and sit in the sunlight?" The stricken look in Robin's eyes said it all, long before his words confirmed it.  
"B, I never wanted you to- oh  _fog_." Bertrand had had enough of teasing and tormenting and dived down to finish what he started. "Oh,  _blood_ , Bertrand!"

On the whole, it really was just as well that the nearest cottage was well out of earshot. Robin could make  _so_  much noise.

* * *

Unnerving as Bertrand's sudden decision to let his darker side play was, it was also one of the most deeply erotic things Robin had ever experienced. To be denied what he craved at the last, to be so obviously and deliciously punished for his earlier thoughtlessness... he cried out in pleasure as Bertrand finally gave him the release he'd so desperately wanted and allowed himself to fall forwards, cold body pressing down on Robin's warm one.

It took a few long, contented moments for Robin to be able to even consider moving, but when he did his hand led the way. He stroked and tickled his way up his lover's leg, making the other man groan and roll to lie beside him.  
"Tease," the vampire murmured, but Robin only sighed.  
"Says you. Come on." He hauled himself out of the coffin and held out a hand, leading Bertrand over to the alcove containing a window seat that was the only remaining indication of the bricked-up window in the corner of the room. He pushed Bertrand down onto the seat and stood between his legs, still clutching the vampire's hands.  
"I wanted to say I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean it, it just slipped out. I'm sorry..." He paused, tongue darting nervously over his own lip. "I'm sorry about  _everything_."

Bertrand nodded; he looked as if he was about to speak, but Robin placed a finger on his lips to stop the sound.  
"Wait, I'm not done begging for forgiveness yet." He dropped to his knees, but when he opened his mouth, he found a much better use to put it to than begging.

* * *

Bertrand wasn't entirely sure he liked the idea of Robin begging him for anything, let alone forgiveness, but if this was how he wished to resolve things between them... They still needed to talk, of course, but that was quite impossible for both of them presently, for very different reasons.

Robin looked up at him, meeting his eye, and it was suddenly all too much for Bertrand. Robin stroked his thigh as he shuddered and moaned, and then came to sit beside him on the window seat.  
"I really am sorry." Bertrand shook his head; they didn't need to talk about this right now. Big discussions could wait at least a few hours.  
"I love you." He lifted Robin easily, carrying him to the coffin and climbing in himself. "But I'm exhausted." The boy nodded sleepily and curled into him, Bertrand wrapping his arms around him tightly. It had been a very trying day, but he had his Robin in his arms and all was right with the world.

Even if they were going to have to make another blasted Ikea trip.


	22. Chapter 22

Bertrand woke the next morning to find Robin gone.

For a moment, he thought he might have left him forever, or at least disappeared on one of his mysterious outings... But then he heard the clinking of china downstairs and realised his missing breather was merely pottering around in the kitchen. He appeared in the doorway, not long after this realisation, bearing a cup of tea for himself and a mug of perfectly-warmed soy blood for Bertrand. He took his drink gratefully as Robin, placing his own cup on the floor, joined him in the coffin.

As his lover reached for his tea, Bertrand realised the coffin room looked a great deal tidier - and less smashed up - than it had when they'd fallen asleep.  
"Breakfast in bed?  _And_  you've tidied up?" He took a sip of his soy blood, relishing the acquired taste. "Why am I being spoilt, Robin?"  
"Thought I should try to make it up to you. About yesterday, I mean." If he was expecting Bertrand to disagree, he would be disappointed. Instead, he took another sip of his blood and sighed.  
"Thank you. But what's got you stressing out so badly? Was it something to do with that phone call?" Robin shook his head.  
"I suppose I'm just a bit frazzled. I'm still kind of scared about this biting thing, and we need to find an antidote or something for that potion. and thinking about what to tell my family..." Bertrand squeezed his hand reassuringly.  
"All a bit much? Then we'll worry about that later. But these phone calls, whatever you're doing that you won't tell me about... you're sure it's alright? If you're in some kind of trouble I hope you know you can tell me."  
"I can't tell you what I'm doing, B, I'm sorry. I just can't."  
"Then don't tell me. I'm just worried about you, that's all. I don't know what you've got yourself into."  
"Are you..." Robin swallowed nervously. "Are you accusing me of cheating on you?"

"No! I never said that, I know you'd never-" The thought had never occurred to him, not as a serious possibility. "...Are you?"

* * *

Robin didn't know what to say to that.  
"Of course not!" He understood why Bertrand had had to ask, though; he'd have been suspicious if their roles had been reversed.  
"Then why did you assume that's what I meant?" The vampire looked confused, and Robin realised he really hadn't been thinking that at all until he'd planted the idea in his mind.  
"I dunno, it's what I'd assume if-" He realised he'd said the wrong thing as Bertrand's face creased into a frown.  
"You'd assume I was cheating on you if I started keeping secrets?"  
"That's not what-"  
"When I had to fly to Transylvania that time without a word to anyone, you thought that was to visit a lover?"  
"No, I-"  
"Robin, I just wanted to make sure you were safe. That's the only reason I asked. I... look, thank you for the blood, but I think I need to be alone for a while." Robin hesitated, then pulled himself back out of the coffin. He could go to the library, keep looking for Bertrand's cure. He stooped to drop a kiss into Bertrand's hair; his lover let him do it.  
"I love you. I'll see you later."

He settled in the library of the main house and began his research all over again, filling a page with notes in no time. Things weren't looking good; several of the alternative ingredients he'd discovered counteracted each other, and most of the herbs that might have a chance of neutralising the negative effects on Bertrand would also nullify the potion's desired properties. It was beginning to become clear why nobody had used the remedy in several centuries.

Vlad dropped in after a couple of hours to help him look, but he quickly became just as dispirited as Robin was.  
"Robin, mate, I'm not sure there's a way of doing this."  
"There's got to be."  
"Are you sure you don't just want me to do it?"  
"It's got to be him, Vlad." Robin sighed, looking up from his book. "I just... it's important to me. And I think it would make him feel better about it too. He's terrified I'll get hurt, at least if he's the one biting me he's in control. And with you around there's no reason to worry that he'll hurt me..." Vlad held up his hands.  
"Alright, I was just asking. I know. It's a big deal. I know I wouldn't have wanted anyone else to bite-" He trailed off and Robin patted his arm reassuringly.  
"I know, mate, I know." They turned back to their research in silence.

* * *

Bertrand stayed in the coffin for a lot longer than he usually would, brooding. Robin's automatic reaction to secrecy was to assume he was having an affair? That didn't seem healthy, given who Bertrand was. Robin  _knew_ he struggled with sharing, that he considered secrecy to be crucial to safety in many cases. Besides which Vlad frequently had to entrust him with tasks that required strict confidentiality, even from Robin. Had his breather harboured suspicions every time?

He still didn't think Robin was cheating on him. He wouldn't do that, Bertrand was sure. Not now, of all times. Would he? He supposed it might be a last desperate gasp of life, one last breather fling to get his heart racing before it stopped. Maybe it was a way to see if Bertrand was what he really wanted, before he committed himself forever.  _No_ , he wasn't considering this. He had more faith in Robin than that. After all the boy had put up with over the years, he'd earned that trust.

No, something else had to be happening. But sinister silent phone calls, mysterious meetings, the way Robin shied away from any mention of his family... Was Robin being threatened? If so, who by, and why wouldn't he tell Bertrand? Anyone who harmed his Robin would answer to  _him_ , he'd told him that long ago.  
 _"Anyway, if you bit me now, it wouldn't be anywhere near as exciting when I got hurt, would it?"  
"You're not going to get hurt. I'll kill anyone who tries."_  
It had been one of the first promises he'd made him, and he'd meant it. He stood by it. Admittedly, Robin  _had_ been hurt since then, but only through his own clumsiness and - occasionally - his relentlessly optimistic attempts at DIY. Bertrand would never let anyone hurt his breather.

So if the boy was being threatened or manipulated, why wouldn't he ask Bertrand for help? He was more than capable of crushing anyone who tried to ruin his happiness, and even if the threat was too great for Bertrand to eliminate alone, he had Vlad and the might of the Vampire High Council on his side.  _They_  had them on  _their_ side. After all, approving the Bite Licence had to indicate some kind of support for the pair of them, and while most of that had been earned through Bertrand's hard work, some credit was certainly due to Robin. Over the last five years, they'd attended every social engagement together - Robin wore stasis spray for convenience on these occasions, but the Council knew how things were - and the breather had charmed more than one stuffy traditionalist in the upper echelons of vampire society. If Robin needed help, he had no reason to hesitate before asking Bertrand. They could solve any problem together.

The phone rang.

* * *

Robin had to concede that it didn't look good. The day was slipping away faster than he'd expected, and he and Vlad had found nothing to help them. In fact, the more they researched, the clearer it became that the potion, in its unaltered form, was their only hope. Some hope - a hope that could cripple Bertrand.

It wasn't that Robin didn't want a weak boyfriend - but he knew Bertrand; everything he loved involved free movement and energy and  _action._ He was the Grand High Vampire's most trusted guard, for blood's sake - he'd go insane if he couldn't defend Robin and his ruler, his two objects of devotion. And then there was the risk to his mind; Bertrand's fierce intelligence was not only one of the more attractive things about him, it was also his great strength. Without his wit and knowledge, what hope did Bertrand have of enjoying his life? If he found himself unable to read with his usual enjoyment, if he couldn't beat Vlad at chess... he didn't want his lover to feel inferior forever just because he wanted to help Robin.

"Vlad?" The Chosen One looked up from his book. "I don't think we're going to be able to fix it."  
"Maybe one of these-"  
"Vlad, if it comes to it... Would you bite me for Bertrand?"


	23. Chapter 23

"Hello?" There was a tense silence at the other end of the line, and Bertrand sighed, expecting the click of a receiver being replaced or the beep of a mobile disconnecting.  
"Bertrand?" He nearly dropped the phone; he hadn't realised how used he'd become to being hung up on, in such a short space of time. "It's Jonno, Jonno Van Helsing?"  
"Ah, Jonno." He didn't really know what to say; former members of the Slayer's Guild didn't tend to call this house. "What can I do for you?" There was another brief pause.  
"I was hoping to talk to Robin, actually. I mean, not that I don't want to talk to you, I just need to talk to-"  
"He's not here." Jonno made an awkward, disappointed noise. "I can take a message?"  
"Could you just… ask him to call me back as soon as possible, please? Before tomorrow." Bertrand nodded before remembering that the telephone rendered such expedient gestures useless.  
"Yes." He was about to say his goodbyes when a thought struck him. Robin would be going out tomorrow. Jonno had seemed… it was as if he was aware of it. "Jonno, do you know what he's got into?"

* * *

Vlad was staring at him as if what Robin had just asked didn't make perfect sense.  
"Would I…  _what_?"  
"Would you bite me? So Bertrand doesn't have to do all this?" He gestured vaguely at the assortment of books piled around them.  
"I thought you said you didn't want me to do it."  
"I… Bertrand would have been my first choice, but-" The Chosen One cut him off.  
"I thought  _Bertrand_ wanted to do it. So he's in control of your safety, and all that."  
"Well, yeah, but if it's going to make him sick-"  
"Robin, stop."

He did, frowning. Vlad was staring at him as if he didn't even recognise him anymore. Was it so bizarre to think that he cared for Bertrand enough to stop him taking stupid risks with his health just to give Robin the perfect bite he'd dreamed of for years? He'd thought Vlad knew how important the vampire was to him. He'd thought it was obvious how much he loved him. If Vlad didn't understand that… his frown deepened.  _Does Bertrand know I love him?_

The Chosen One seemed to feel that he'd had enough time to think.  
"You need to talk to Bertrand about this. You've got too used to keeping secrets."

* * *

There was a long silence at the end of the line.  
"Jonno?" Bertrand thought for a moment that the younger man had disappeared, but he spoke, finally, with a heavy sigh.  
"I promised him I wouldn't tell you. I'm sorry, Bertrand, I can't." He almost laughed; that was what was worrying the slayer?  
"I don't need to know what's happening. But Jonno, is he safe?"  
"Of course!" The boy sounded surprised. "Yeah, of course he is. Why would you think he wasn't?"  
"Well, the disappearances… the silent phone calls…" He could almost hear Jonno's frown down the phone line.  
"What silent phone calls?"

It was a deeply uneasy vampire who hung up the phone more than half an hour later. Jonno had seemed so sure that Robin was safe, but it seemed that even he was only getting part of the picture. He and Robin were pretty close – Jonno didn't often set foot on Vlad's estate, but they'd been at school together, the only two students with strange blank patches in their memory for a while, and Robin had clearly trusted him enough to let him in on at least part of the secret, whatever it was. So what was so terrible about these phone calls, for even Jonno not to know?

He set out towards Vlad's house, suddenly determined to check that Robin was safe.

* * *

Robin had returned to scouring books for answers. The Chosen One appeared to have given up; he simply sat watching him pore over dusty old tome after dusty old tome.  
"Is everything alright with you and Bertrand?" He barely glanced up.  
"Yeah. Well. Yeah. Why?" Vlad raised an eyebrow.  
"You don't sound too sure." Robin sighed, looking up from the page.  
"We had a bit of an argument, I'm stressed out from all this running around lying to him and he's worried about me –  _worried_ , Vlad, not even angry like a sensible person – and it all kind of exploded, but we'll be fine. We've had fights before. That's how things work."

Vlad nodded, but when Robin slammed yet another book closed a few minutes later he found his friend still frowning at him.  
"What is it, Vlad?" The vampire seemed to hesitate before moving to sit closer beside him, close enough for Robin to feel the coolness of his skin even through two layers of clothes. Their eyes met and Vlad regarded him seriously.  
"Robin, don't think I'm judging you or anything, but… why are you doing this if you're so sure he doesn't love you?"  
"What?" Robin was outraged. "He does! Of course he does."  
"So… he just doesn't trust it?"  
"Trust what?" The Chosen One blinked at him for a second, then slammed his head down onto his folded arms on the desk, voice muffled behind them.  
"Oh, blood and garlic. You two are  _useless._ "


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another flashback chapter. Just... if it's in italics, assume it's a flashback.

_"Mm, B." Robin was trailing kisses over his scars again, and Bertrand had to make a conscious effort to focus on the words between the soft presses of lips. "Do you taste like this all over?" It took a moment for Bertrand to realise what Robin was talking about. He choked back the groan of arousal that threatened to escape, pushing his younger lover backwards slightly._

_Robin's face fell; it was obvious that he thought he'd done something wrong._   
_"Sorry, I didn't mean to-"_   
_"I can't, Robin, I- if I- if you-" The boy curled against his side with a soft sigh of understanding._   
_"The control thing." Bertrand nodded miserably. He'd been getting better at letting Robin touch him - several times now he'd let his breather make him come without so much as touching his hand with his own - but that wasn't such terrifyingly uncharted territory as what Robin was suggesting now._

_He stole a glance into his lover's eyes as the boy's fingers ran dreamily over his torso._  
 _"That... it's something you want?" Robin shrugged._  
 _"Dunno. Never tried it. It's alright, B, I was just thinking out loud. You don't have to be okay with any-" Bertrand reached out and cupped Robin's cheek, pulling him into a tender kiss, tongue languidly exploring his mouth until Robin pulled back with a gasp. "You- you don't have to be magically better-"_  
 _"You make me better. You always have. Ever since you asked to see my fangs and didn't run. I just... You've been so patient with me, of course you want more."_  
 _Robin made a clicking noise with his tongue that Bertrand assumed signified dissent._  
 _"_ Bertrand _. Just... Remember that training thing you taught me, that way to pin someone down I said was a bit saucy?" He frowned, nodding. Robin had made him demonstrate far more than was necessary, but that had been months ago. "Pin me."_  
 _Bertrand hesitated, but Robin had already rolled onto his back, away from the vampire, and following the instruction seemed the best way to get close again._

_Robin's eyes, even darker than usual, met his own with a sly smile._  
 _"There. You've got me." He trailed a cautious hand over Bertrand's collarbone. "What you do with me now's up to you, I reckon." Bertrand moaned - for all that he was terrified of forgetting Robin wasn't a snack, his attempts to reassure him were never less than astounding. It was as if there was nothing Robin wouldn't do for his lover. Suddenly he felt an overwhelming urge to pay him back._  
 _"_ Robin _." The urgent tone of his voice caught the younger man's attention. "What do you want? I... We can try, something new I mean." His breather smiled._  
 _"You get so daring when you're on top." He closed his eyes, thinking; Bertrand just hoped he wouldn't revert to his original suggestion. He thought that might be a little too far out of his comfort zone. "I want..." Robin's breath hitched and Bertrand felt a distinct stirring beneath him. "I want to come with you."_

_The vampire didn't understand, a rare and perplexing occurrence._  
 _"I'm not going anyw-_ oh _. But... You don't want to do something... new and exciting?" He'd been sure the boy wanted more from him. Robin reached up to tangle a hand in Bertrand's hair, obviously trying to keep the vulnerability out of his expression. And failing._  
 _"I mean... I don't want to take it in turns, I want..." He trailed off as Bertrand shifted away, rolling off him. He looked as if he was about to apologise, but Bertrand's fingers at the waistband of his pyjama trousers stopped him._

_As soon as they were both naked, Bertrand realised he wasn't quite sure what to do. Fortunately, Robin wasn't short of ideas, edging forwards until skin brushed firmly against skin, watching Bertrand carefully to check he was OK before wrapping a hand around them both. He'd barely begun to stroke when Bertrand's hand flew to join his lover's, the vampire moaning contentedly as they moved together. Robin's answering noise was intensely arousing, and before long they were both thrusting desperately against each other._

_"Fog, B, I can't hold back much longer, tell me you're close-" Blood, he was after_ that _little confession._  
 _"Too close for words." His voice became more of a growl as he spoke directly into Robin's ear. "Come with me." The breather practically yelped, the fingers of his free hand digging into Bertrand's back as he shuddered and spasmed, the vampire not half a second behind him._

_"Thank you." The sleepy murmur, minutes later, didn't come from Robin, who propped himself up on an elbow to get a good look at his lover._   
_"For what?"_   
_"Loving me anyway." Bertrand's eyes closed and he let himself slip into unconsciousness, away from his own pathetic sentiment._   
_The last thing he heard before sleep took him was Robin's soft chuckle as he settled his head back on the vampire's unmoving chest._   
_"Idiot... my idiot."_


	25. Chapter 25

"What? Why?" Vlad raised his head, shot Robin a withering look, and passed him a book from the nearest shelf, bookmarked with a note in the Grand High Vampire's familiar handwriting.  _'Just in case.'_  It was some kind of book on ancient lore, and Robin wasn't sure what he was supposed to be looking at for a moment. Then he saw it.  
 _A vampire so weak as to fall in love with a victim is both unworthy and physically incapable of conferring loyalty upon him through fangs on flesh. Such a-_  
Robin looked up, beaming. "But this solves everything!" Vlad smiled back at him.  
"I thought you knew. Good thing, too; I made some discreet enquiries at Council and it turns out that  _remedy_  of Bertrand's is still occasionally used after all. As a poison."  
"If we'd known, do you really think we'd have spent all this time... researching...?" Robin trailed off, frowning.  
"What's wrong?"  
"You know how thorough Bertrand is with research. He found an ancient poison, but not this?" It was Vlad's turn to frown.  
"What are you saying?"  
"D'you think he knew?" The answer came from the doorway, causing them both to turn towards the source of the voice.  
"Of course I knew."

* * *

_Bertrand sat in their new library and watched Robin turn pages, increasingly frustrated with his task. The vampire could intervene, of course, and tell him the answer he was seeking could be found on page 394 of the book cushioning his left elbow, but that would completely defeat the point of the exercise. For Robin, that was improving his research skills so he could help Bertrand in his work. For Bertrand... Well, he was prepared to admit, in the privacy of his own mind, that it was mostly an aesthetic pleasure._

_Bertrand thrilled at the sight of Robin, absorbed in his work and surrounded by books, sitting in a library that was just theirs. The books were almost all Bertrand's, apart from a shelf of Robin's favourite supernatural fiction - which, though he didn't know it yet, would cause him untold anguish in years to come as he reached for a reference text and found himself taking notes on_ Johnny Fang, PI: Blood and Justice _for the fifteenth time. Seeing Robin so at ease among Bertrand's treasures made the vampire feel oddly warm inside. The slight furrow of the boy's brow caused a bat to flutter in his lover's stomach; the groan as he closed another book and pulled another towards him made him want to bend the boy over the desk and- he caught the errant train of thought, stopped it in its tracks._ Breathers are breakable. _He had to remember that with regards to Robin._

_The boy was back to flicking pages by the time he'd got both mind and body under control, wincing as one sliced his finger. The injured digit was halfway to its owner's mouth when Robin suddenly froze, looking for all the world as if he'd been caught eyeing somebody's last Rolo._   
_"Sorry, B, d'you want this?" He knew he should resist, but Robin's blood, freely offered... The temptation was too great._

_He dropped into a crouch at his breather's side and slowly, carefully wrapped his lips around the damaged finger, sliding them down until he had Robin's entire finger in his mouth, sucking gently to ensure any lingering dirt from the book's pages found its way not into the boy's vulnerable circulatory system, but into the formidable digestive system of the vampire. He was being slow and careful to ensure his fangs, threatening to descend at any moment, didn't hurt Robin, but judging by the fascinated intensity of his stare, the way he trembled and licked his lips... Robin's mind was somewhere different. Bertrand's followed it gleefully into the gutter._  
 _"Coffin,_ now _?" he managed around his breather's finger.  
"I haven't found-" Bertrand made a frustrated noise and pulled the relevant book from the messy pile on the table, flicking to page 394 and slamming it down in front of him.  
"There. _Coffin _."_

_Robin pulled his finger back, the blood having stopped, and frowned at his lover._   
_"You knew it was there all along?" Bertrand scooped him up and began carrying him upstairs, suddenly feeling very bold and thoroughly happy.  
"Of course I knew."_

* * *

Vlad saw Robin turn towards his lover, observed the expressions on their faces, and made an undignified break for the exit, brushing past Bertrand on his way out. Robin barely gave him time to shut the door before he began demanding answers.  
"Oh, of  _course_. You didn't think to tell me?"  
"I wasn't aware that you were the only one allowed to have secrets now." Bertrand's voice was steady, restrained, but Robin could hear the ice creeping into his tone.  
"We're back to that? How long are you going to hold that against me?"  
"Can you blame me, when it's still going on? It scares me, Robin!"  
"What, you're afraid I'll leave you?"  
"I'm afraid I'll  _lose_  you." Bertrand's expression spoke only of concern, but Robin knew better than that. He'd seen the book.

"You say that like you love me," He took a deep breath, aware that he was shouting, trying to make his voice sound calmer, "but now the truth's out, Bertrand. We both know you'd rather drink poison!"  
"I _do_  love you! I'd drink poison for y-"  
"Is that really the only way you could think of to get rid of me without upsetting your precious Chosen One?"  
"Don't drag Vlad into this-" He could see Bertrand's point; it hardly seemed fair to involve Vlad in their private disputes, but he was  _always_ a factor where Bertrand was concerned and while he didn't blame the Chosen One, he wasn't going to ignore that fact either. Still, he didn't need to keep talking about Vlad – he was no more than the motivation for Bertrand's scheming.

"You knew I wouldn't let you take the potion, you didn't want to be stuck with me forever and this was the perfect solution to keep your hands clean-"  
"You're wrong." He changed tack, then, in the face of Bertrand's mounting desperation.  
"Were you hoping I'd leave you when you were crippled? Is getting rid of me worth that m-?"  
"That's not-" Bertrand's voice was raised now, trying to cut through Robin's furious diatribe. He simply continued louder than ever.  
"Because I wouldn't have left you, I thought you loved-"  
"I do-"  
"Then  _why_ , Bertrand?"

The sudden silence seemed deafening after all the shouting. Robin spoke softly, then, knowing Bertrand would be able to hear the heartbreak in every syllable.  
"Tell me why."


	26. Chapter 26

"Tell me why." He sounded so completely broken, even the coldest heart couldn't have stood for it.

Bertrand reached for his lover's hand, but Robin stepped backwards, out of reach.  
"Robin-"  
"No, Bertrand, just tell me. If love is all we need, why the  _fog_ are you so dead-set on drinking poison? Don't you-?" He was startled by the sudden stabbing pain in his cold, dead heart as he realised what the breather was asking.  
"Don't ask me that, Robin, don't you dare."  
"Then tell me why you kept this from me."

Bertrand took a deep, unnecessary breath.  
"I knew if I told you, you'd stop looking for other options. Obviously, I was hoping for something less dangerous, but if that's what it takes to protect you, Robin-" The boy shook his head, still confused.  
"But you don't need to.  _If you love me_ , I won't become loyal anyway."  
"We need to be careful, I can't risk you. I  _won't_."  
"So you're saying it won't work. This... it won't protect me, without the potion?"  
"I don't know." Bertrand closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable accusation. Robin didn't disappoint.  
"You don't know if you love me?" He hesitated for a second too long before replying, and Robin continued. "After six years, after all this-?"

"Vampires don't love." When he opened his eyes, Robin looked as if he'd just been slapped. "Vampires  _can't_  love. Everyone knows that."  
"You can. Vlad loves Erin, and you..." He trailed off uncertainly, and Bertrand stepped closer, relieved when Robin didn't resist him putting his hand on his cheek.  
"I love you. I  _do_. Look at me, Robin, I'm telling the truth." He didn't know how to explain his fears, but he had to try. "I... I love you as much as it's possible to love  _anyone_. That's  _why_  I need to take the potion, it's why I'm doing all of this."

* * *

Robin was trying to understand, really he was, but Bertrand wasn't making any sense. He picked up the book and showed it to him, wondering if perhaps one of them had misread it. No, there it was, clear as a moonlit night.  _'...physically incapable of conferring loyalty upon him through fangs on flesh.'_ Bertrand glanced down, but he too seemed unsurprised by the contents of the page.  
"I know what it says."  
"Then you see? It's gonna be fine, you... you could bite me  _now_ and it would be alright, you don't have to worry." He was still annoyed that his lover had kept this quiet, but Bertrand was secretive by nature, and he'd obviously been wrestling with it – he could let it pass, at least for now, if only the vampire would accept that this was the solution, not some old poison. "You don't have to hurt yourself."  
"I'm not biting you without that potion."

Robin knew he could have a temper; it had always been one of his flaws. Now, it flared up as it rarely did around Bertrand.  
"That's it? No discussion? You're not even going to ask me if it's OK, you're just going to  _poison yourself_  for no apparent reason?"  
"Robin-"  
"Have you even  _thought_  about what it'd be like if it went wrong, how miserable you'd be?"  
" _Bran-_ "  
"Don't you 'Bran'  _me_ , Bertrand, it won't-"  
"Let me explain. Please." His voice was quiet, resigned, and it was that more than anything that brought Robin's voice back down to a reasonable level. Besides, if Bertrand was using his pet name – especially outside of their own house – he must be in the grip of some very strong emotions indeed. Bertrand  _never_  called him Bran except in extremely special circumstances. He folded his arms crossly, leaning back to perch on the edge of the nearest table.  
"This had better be good."

Bertrand took a moment to gather himself, and Robin could feel himself growing impatient again. He couldn't imagine how Bertrand could possibly justify his actions.  
"Vampires can't love, it's just... that's a fact, as far as the world is concerned. So how can a vampire's love save you? It's like saying unicorn blood can cure chickenpox... maybe it's true, but even if you find a unicorn and try it, how can you trust that the person who wrote it knew what they were talking about?" Robin frowned. The vampire still wasn't making a lot of sense.  
"What are you saying?"  
"What if... what if they're right, what if I can't love you enough to negate the loyalty? You know I'm not a nice person, Robin, the things I've done... What if my love isn't good enough?"

Bertrand backed up a little until he could sink into an armchair and curl into himself, forlorn and vulnerable, eyes fixed on Robin's. He was surprised to see  _tears_  welling within them; he could count the number of times he'd seen Bertrand cry on one hand and still have fingers spare to count something else. He stared at his boyfriend for a few minutes, trying to work out what had just happened and how he was supposed to feel about it, before it became apparent that Bertrand wasn't going to move. His head had dropped onto the folded arms he'd curled around his knees, and it seemed like he'd completely shut down.

Robin reached a decision and stood.

* * *

Bertrand couldn't bear to look at Robin, unable to stand his own weakness. He'd borne it so well, the uncertainty, the knowledge that he couldn't protect his beloved Robin the way he wanted to, and he'd  _found_ a way to do it. He'd tried so hard, and now Robin was refusing his protection, and ever since the breather had decided it was time it seemed as if everything was falling apart. They hadn't even resolved their last fight yet and here they were having another. He couldn't deal with this, this private debate in a space that was not their own; he couldn't cope with the broken sound of Robin's voice, he couldn't handle the accusations and the guilt. He simply lowered his head and hoped that at least whatever Robin did now would be over quickly. Shouting, crying, even just opening the curtains – he didn't care as long as Robin did it before he could completely go to pieces.

The hand in his hair, then, surprised him as it came out of nowhere and began to stroke gently. He tensed, waiting for some other reaction, but then Robin's voice was in his ear.  
"It's been way too long since I got to call you an idiot." He lifted his head slightly to peer over his arm at Robin, who was gazing back at him with tears in his own eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment, the breather still stroking the vampire's hair, and then Robin spoke again. " _Idiot_."

Bertrand frowned, trying not to be hurt by the word, but his lover leant in and pressed a kiss to his temple.  
"Of course your love is good enough, B, there's no love stronger. Look at what you're prepared to  _do_  to keep me safe."  
"You've changed your tune." He wasn't very good at expressing relief.  
"Someone amazing opened my eyes." Robin smiled dopily at him before his expression hardened. "You're still not drinking that stuff, but I understand now."  
"If you understood, you'd know I have to-"  
" _Bertrand du Fortunesa_ , if you so much as  _make_  that poison, or buy it, or  _sniff_ it, I will leave and never come back." He hung his head.  
"You'd be alive." Robin let out a growl of frustration and went for his neck; from anyone else it would be a threat, but Robin just wanted to remind them both that Bertrand was  _his_ , to mark and keep forever. The first nip was gentle enough.  
"I'd be miserable." Then he began raising bruises in earnest, teeth pressing firmly into Bertrand's skin.

He wasn't sure if he was forgiven or not, if they were okay – he was vaguely aware that he himself had been cross with Robin not so very long ago, though he couldn't remember why – but he couldn't help but uncurl his body from the hunched position he'd been in. Robin pulled back and smiled at him, mission accomplished.  
"I love you, Bran." He never wanted to give Robin reason to doubt it ever again.  
"Love you too, B... But you know the pet name's not just going to get you out of trouble all the time, right?" He sat down and snuggled into Bertrand on the big, squishy armchair. "And I hope you weren't planning on moving any time soon, 'cos that's not happening."  
"We're in Vlad's library, we can't just sit around being all... loved-up." Robin raised his head and grinned at him.  
"Ah, but Vlad thinks we're fighting, he won't come in here for hours." He nuzzled back into Bertrand's neck – the unbruised side – and sighed contentedly. "You're all mine, du Fortunesa."

Bertrand smiled at him fondly. He could cope with that.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback continuing from the one in chapter 25. Enjoy!

_"Bertrand," Robin murmured as his lover lowered him into their coffin and got in too, "what's going on?" The vampire didn't answer for a moment, pressing his lips to Robin's as he fumbled with the button of the boy's trousers, apparently in a hurry._  
"I want you. Can I have you?" Robin frowned.  
"B, I- you know you have me, I'm all yours." He stopped for a moment, apparently picking up on Robin's confusion, and closed his eyes.

_"In the library... you seemed..." He blushed, realising what Bertrand was getting at._  
"Yeah, a bit."  
"Why?" The question sounded like a matter of curiosity more than anything, like something Bertrand wanted to test a hypothesis about.  
"I don't know, it was just... watching you... you were... I don't know, B, it was just hot." The vampire's brow furrowed.  
"You liked me sucking your finger?" Robin grimaced; he was making it sound weird. Was he weird? But then Bertrand was running a hand carefully down the front of his t-shirt until he reached his trousers again. "Robin, can I-?"

_He stared, eyes wide, at his lover. Bertrand couldn't possibly be suggesting what he seemed to be suggesting, could he? He had too many control issues - they'd discussed this before, after all, back at Garside – and he'd decided it was too far. Now, though, he seemed sincere enough in whatever he was actually asking. Robin could only nod._

_Nod, and almost immediately let out an undignified noise as Bertrand stripped away his trousers and underwear, looking up to check that Robin understood what he wanted and wanted it too before pressing a gentle kiss to his inner thigh. Robin's heart pounded in his chest as Bertrand shifted his lips across to touch his mouth to a still more sensitive place.  
"Fog,Bertrand-" It was all he could do to keep still as Bertrand ran his tongue uncertainly over his flesh; he wanted to ask if the older man was sure, if he was going to be alright, but his brain wouldn't cooperate and neither would his tongue, as Bertrand's stroked down the length of – he gasped as the vampire took him into his mouth, a little overwhelmed by the new sensations. "-fog, blood, _B _..."_

_The vampire seemed a little uncertain about what he was doing, tentatively moving his mouth over the boy and listening for any sound that suggested he was getting something right. Robin was sure he was making enough appreciative noise to reassure him, and his hand strayed to bury itself absently in his lover's hair. He realised he'd made a mistake the moment he'd done it, as Bertrand's grip on his hips tightened and the vampire pulled back. Robin raised his hands in a gesture of surrender as the vampire looked up at him, startled.  
"Sorry. Sorry, sorry, I-" Then Bertrand went back to what he'd been doing and Robin's eyes rolled back in his head as he struggled to find some way of keeping his hands clear. In the end he settled for gripping the edges of the coffin and just enjoying the experience._

* * *

_Bertrand felt clumsy and awkward despite Robin's moans of pleasure. He didn't know what he was doing, embarrassing though it was to admit to himself; he'd never really done this. Well, he hadn't done it in centuries, and certainly not willingly, nor for someone he cared about as much as he cared about Robin. There had never_ been  _anyone he cared about as much as Robin. He focused on trying to replicate the actions that had made Robin's eyes go so wide earlier, although obviously the situation was hardly comparable – a hand tangled in his hair and he instinctively darted backwards, trying to escape._

_Robin removed his hand quickly, apologising profusely, but Bertrand shook his head and wrapped his lips back around him, reducing his lover to incoherent noises and sending him scrabbling for the coffin walls. It was a strange feeling, to have the firmness of Robin in his mouth, but it wasn't a bad thing. He wasn't sure why, but today he felt like he could take on the world and win. Perhaps it was just because he'd spent all morning with Robin in their library and there was no part of that sentence that didn't make him happy._

_Speaking of happy, Robin was beginning to squirm. That was fine, he could cope with that; he stroked a thumb across the top of Robin's thigh to reassure himself that the boy was still his, still under his control. But then Robin's hips bucked involuntarily and suddenly Bertrand was out of his depth, it was too much – he reeled away from him and threw himself to the other end of the coffin as his fangs descended involuntarily. Blood, he hadn't had that problem since he was newly-turned, but he'd been caught off-guard. He supposed he should have expected his breather to move; he doubted there were many men who could stay perfectly still under these conditions, even if he'd asked him to, and Robin had never been known for his self-control anyway._

_He sat perfectly still and waited for his thoughts to settle, trying to pull them away from the dark corners in his mind where he stored the worst of his past._

* * *

_Robin had let out a strangled moan as Bertrand pulled away again, but it took him a moment to gather his senses enough to prop himself up on his elbows and take in the sight of the vampire hunched at the end of the coffin.  
"B? You alright?" He sat up properly, shifting closer to his lover until he was close enough to see the way his eyes were scrunched shut and his fangs were lowered. He was really just glad Bertrand had retreated before that had happened; it could have been painful. Bertrand didn't move. Robin sighed - he recognised Bertrand's usual tactic for hiding his 'weakness' when he saw it, and he was seeing it now - before tentatively reaching out to touch his cheek. "Too fast?"_

_It seemed to take a while for the words to reach the vampire, but at length Bertrand shook his head._  
"I was so sure I could..." He swallowed hard, and when he opened his mouth again Robin saw that he'd managed to retract his fangs. "I thought I could do it." Robin couldn't help letting out another fond little sigh.  
"It's difficult for you, I get that. You did really well to get as far as you did." His lover frowned at him.  
"Were you... before I panicked, you were enjoying it?" Robin nodded, leaning in to kiss him gently.  
"Yeah, loads. But I don't need it, B, not if you're not ready."

_The vampire seemed to be trying to make a monumental decision about whether or not he should say something. Eventually, he looked down and to the side, staring at the base of the coffin as he spoke._  
"I... there are some bad memories, from a very long time ago. I need...can you give me time?" Robin nodded and began to stand, but Bertrand made a choked noise and he stopped.  
"I thought you wanted time?" The vampire shook his head, looking up at Robin with a strange, urgent sort of anxiety.  
"Please don't be disgusted by me." Oh, they were back to that again. Robin was back on his knees next to Bertrand before he realised the implications of what Bertrand was saying, what he was suggesting about his own past. He couldn't bear to think that Bertrand believed he'd be disgusted, not just by the fact that he was a vampire with a few control issues, but by what it seemed had happened to him.

_"Oh, B, no._ No _. I'm not disgusted. I love you, you know that." He held out his arms and waited for the vampire to crawl into them, feeling a little silly as he remembered that his trousers were somewhere the other side of the room. It took five minutes of cuddling for Bertrand's tight grip on his back to loosen, but after another two his hand slipped down between them to wrap around Robin again. "You sure you're al- mmh?" Bertrand dropped a kiss into his hair.  
"Just proving I can still make you moan anyway." He sounded confident enough, but Robin knew him well enough to pick up on the tiny variation in tone that meant he was trying to be brave. He was about to double-check, but then his lover seemed to regain his courage, leaning close to his ear in that way he knew Robin couldn't resist. "Mind if I join you?" He took his free hand away from Robin's back, reaching for the fastening of his own trousers, but Robin beat him to it. For a moment, he wondered if he was about to set off all Bertrand's issues again, but his lover moaned appreciatively the moment he touched him and then everything ran together in a blur of gasps and sighs and hands on flesh._

_Later, as they lay together in contented exhaustion, Bertrand tried to apologise._  
"Shhh," Robin murmured, "you have nothing to be sorry for. Just relax, and if you need anything-"  
"No." Bertrand's answer was abrupt and firm. "No, I'm alright now." He wrapped his arms tighter around Robin and held him until they both fell asleep.


	28. Chapter 28

"Do you remember the first time we talked?" Bertrand nodded and hauled his lover closer, cuddling him tightly against his chest.  
"Of course I do." Robin smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the vampire's neck and watching him shiver before speaking.  
"Can I see your fangs?" He didn't hesitate, this time. Even if he couldn't feel the sharp white blades descend, he'd have known by the way Robin's eyes widened, then darkened, the nervous way he licked his lips. "Can I... touch them?"

Bertrand frowned - it was rather an unusual request - but inclined his head slightly and held still as Robin ran careful fingers over the points of his fangs. He gave a minute shake of the head as Robin's thumb wandered too close; the pulse was at its strongest there of all the places in Robin's hand, and he didn't want to lose control and bite him. For one thing, it would lead to chaos when Vlad eventually returned. For another, the bite would be an important turning point - literally - in their relationship and he didn't want to mess it up by losing control in the Grand High Vampire's library.

Robin, thankfully, withdrew his hand without complaint, leaving Bertrand free to speak again.  
"Trying to understand what you'll get?" He smiled, but Robin shook his head, looking nervous and almost guilty, filling his vampiric lover with dread..  
"What I'll  _feel_." Bertrand's stomach turned over.

* * *

Robin hadn't seen Bertrand's face fall so fast in a long time.  
"Robin, I don't want to hu-" He growled at him, actually  _growled_ , enough to catch the vampire off-guard.  
"I want to be bitten. I just want to be prepared."

Bertrand considered him for a long moment, then bowed his head in acceptance, resting his lips on the top of Robin's ear, stopping for a kiss before he spoke.  
"It'll hurt. But not for very long." Robin nodded, eager for his lover to keep talking; it was hard enough to get Bertrand to think about the turning process, let alone talk about it. "You'll lose consciousness, everyone does. When you wake up, you might be a bit disorientated." He paused, as if something had just occurred to him, but didn't carry on. After a few minutes of silence, Robin nudged him gently.  
"B?" He frowned; Robin suspected he'd forgotten he was there. He sometimes did, when his mind was working on a particular logistical puzzle.

"You'll have to be at home, or... if it happens-  _if I bite you_  somewhere else..." his hand tightened around Robin's, which he seemed to be unaware he was holding, and Robin squeezed back in a gesture of reassurance, "...I'll have to move you there before you wake up, or you'll lose your invitation."  
"I didn't know it still worked for all-vampire houses." Bertrand nodded; vampire lore was something he was far more comfortable discussing than Robin's impending undeath, it seemed.  
"It does. Garside let in any old vampire because it was a school and therefore didn't count as a dwelling." He smiled tightly. "Unlucky for you; it's how I got in."

Robin pressed his lips against his lover's again, using his tongue to extract a low sigh of contentment and trailing his hands through Bertrand's hair.  
"The luckiest days of my life involved you sauntering into schools."

* * *

He raised an eyebrow.

"Who says I sauntered anywhere?" Robin grinned impudently at him.  
"I was outside the classroom, remember? You walked in like you owned the place and then you walked out like you didn't even care." He paused, apparently struck by a thought. "Where did you even go? It was daylight."  
"Supply cupboard, round the corner from your form room. I had to hide behind a broken photocopier when one of the teachers came in."  
"Sounds boring. You should have come to class with me... or taken me to the cupboard. Either works." The breather waggled his eyebrows and Bertrand couldn't quite stifle a snort of laughter.  
"I didn't even know you then.  _You_  didn't know  _me_." Robin's breath was hot against his ear.  
"As if I could have said no."

Bertrand groaned; that was unfair.  
"Robin, we're in  _Vlad's_   _library_ , don't tease." Robin gave him a look of pure, hurt innocence.  
"Who's teasing?" Still, he shifted away slightly, settling onto the low arm of the chair rather than Bertrand's lap, and the vampire was torn between relief and disappointment.  
"Besides, I found a way to pass the time." He rolled his eyes at Robin's expression. " _Not_  that. In a school supply cupboard? What kind of-? Anyway. There were several bottles of PVA glue in there. I may, possibly, have spent several hours picking glue off of my fingers."

Robin was laughing at him, then, the clear, delighted laugh of a carefree soul, and Bertrand was briefly jealous of his happiness. Then he remembered all the secrets - perfectly acceptable secrets, secrets he didn't feel threatened by in the least - and decided that if Robin could laugh like that with all those secrets weighing him down,  _Bertrand's_  secrets wouldn't stop him.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING for strongly-implied past rape/sexual assault.

Eventually, of course, the laughter had to die down.

"Are you worried about the bite?" Robin's face fell a little.  
"I... I just don't want to do anything embarrassing... like cry... or throw up."  
"It's not a problem. It'll just be me and Vlad, nobody's going to laugh at you. I know how it feels, after all."

Robin turned his face upwards towards his lover's and Bertrand could see the curiosity written across his face.  
"You never have told me about that." He knew the gravity of what he was saying, it was clear. "I don't mind if you don't want to, but..."  
"But you want to know now more than ever." Robin nodded.  
"It seems like it might help to know, that's all. But if you-"  
"It won't help." Bertrand knew he sounded cold and uncaring, but that wasn't the case at all. "I don't want to scare you." His lover laughed nervously.  
"Not ominous at all, B. Does it hurt that much?"

He met Robin's eyes and just watched in silence as the breather put together everything he knew about Bertrand and reached a conclusion.  
"Not the bite." He shook his head, repeating Robin's words softly.  
"No, not the bite. But if you want to know... you're the only person I could ever tell." Robin didn't answer that, just waited to see if Bertrand really wanted to talk about it.

He found that suddenly he did.

* * *

Robin saw the moment that Bertrand decided he was going to talk, to tell him everything, and the sheer depth of emotion in his eyes scared him for a moment. Bertrand looked so sad, so hurt, and he was about to tell Robin why. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, all of a sudden, but if it would make him feel better... If Bertrand's turning had been so awful, Robin owed it to him to hear him out.

"I... My sire's name was Loïc Régis." The older vampire seemed to grind to a halt for a moment and Robin reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly. "He took me from a dark street at midnight, but if I hadn't run into him of my own accord, I'm told he had an agreement with my parents."  
"He wanted you, specifically?"  
"He  _bought_  me. When I was just an infant." Robin's eyes widened; he'd never heard of a vampire doing such a thing.  _Why?_  Bertrand picked up on his unspoken question. "I didn't have an ordinary upbringing. I was raised, though I didn't know it, to his orders, and trained in the skills he required. And then, when I tried to catch one last night of freedom before what I'd been told was to be a serious, gruelling apprenticeship... he took me from a dark street at midnight."

The vampire fell silent once again, and Robin gave him time. When it seemed like he wasn't going to speak, Robin nudged him gently.  
"Well, that's a nice dramatic sentence anyway." It seemed almost rehearsed, and the reason for that became clear when Bertrand spoke. He didn't look up.  
"It's what I've always told people. It's  _all_  I've always told people."  
"You don't have to-"  
"He told me... I knew he was going to bite me. I'd been trained all my life to be... an assassin, a fighter, to be strong and unassailable. But I was no match for a vampire's speed and strength. He... I was tied. And then he told me. I would be glad, he told me; becoming a vampire would be the greatest thing that ever happened to me. And he..." He swallowed hard, pulling his hand out of Robin's, and hunched slightly, turning his body away from Robin's as if trying to distance himself as far as possible.

Robin, on the arm of the chair, took the hint and stood, shifting to sit on the floor at his lover's feet instead. He didn't want to move away, knowing how terrified Bertrand had always been that he would reject him if he knew about his past, that he would be disgusted. Still, he had obviously been too close for comfort. Bertrand shifted, tucking his knees up against his chest.  
"He told me that breathers were breakable. And then... then he proved it." He sounded so sad that Robin reached for his hand again, but Bertrand flinched and he held his hands up in a gesture of surrender.  
"Sorry! Sorry. But... proved it?" Bertrand made a tiny sound, almost like a whimper, and Robin wished he hadn't asked. "You don't-"  
"He- oh, blood, don't make me say it- he did terrible things, and I was helpless. I should have been able to stop him- but he didn't stop until... I was barely conscious when he bit me. And then when I woke up... He was my sire, the loyalty- it took all I had to drive a stake through his heart, and by then it had been  _days_. And I couldn't go home... It was never home." He'd curled himself over even more tightly, hugging his knees, but Robin saw a tear fall. He threw himself forwards to hug his lover without thinking about it.

Hitting the wall was a vaguely familiar feeling. The books falling on top of him were unexpected, but he just closed his eyes and let it happen.

* * *

Bertrand knew he looked like a terrified child, hunched over and clinging to his own legs as if he thought they were going to escape, and he had a horrible feeling he was crying, but it didn't seem to matter because all he could think about was how pathetic and helpless he'd been, how betrayed and abused. It didn't matter, either, that Loïc Régis had been dust for nearly 400 years. Bertrand could still feel the repulsive creature's hands on him, arms wrapping around him to hold him down.

_No!_ He was a vampire now. He was  _strong_. He threw his attacker away from him with all the force he could muster, and was surprised when he didn't make another attempt against him. He uncurled a little, peering cautiously over his own knees to inspect the damage - and that was when he realised where he was and who he must have actually thrown across the room.  
"Robin?" He leapt to his feet, trauma forgotten for a second in the sheer, blinding panic that rose at the thought of hurting his breather.  _They're so... breakable._ He pushed Régis' voice from his mind and sprinted across to push aside the heap of books obstructing his view of Robin's face, pressing down on his chest. "Robin, I'm so sorry-" He hauled him away from the bookshelf - never mind what Vlad was going to say when he saw the mess - and pressed his ear to the boy's neck. His pulse was strong; relief gave way to terror as he felt his fangs descend and had to move swiftly backwards and get them under control.

"B, 'm okay." Robin was conscious. Robin - now rising from the chair where Bertrand had left him - Robin was alright. Moreover, he was holding his hands out to him, as if he wanted to touch him but didn't dare. He didn't seem scared. "I could use a hug though, if you can do one." Bertrand hesitated, unsure that he was worthy of Robin's touch... but then the boy's shoulders slumped very slightly and the vampire had no choice but to sweep him into a hug.  
"I'm not okay," he murmured into Robin's hair, "but you make me feel okay."  
"How can I help?" He was sure that if he could blush, he'd be blushing now. But he needed something pathetic and sentimental, and Robin had always made it very clear that if there was something he wanted from him, he only had to ask.  
"I... I just need to feel safe, and loved, and special." It sounded even more pathetic when he said it out loud, but before he could take it back Robin was kissing him softly on the cheek, eyes full of understanding.  
"You want me to worship you?" That sounded far more vampiric, but far less  _them_.  
"N-" Robin was blushing now, to the tips of his ears.  
"I do. I'll prove it, any time you want, Bertrand." He placed a tentative hand on Bertrand's chest, stroking gently, and gestured to the armchair they'd been sharing earlier. "Sit down, yeah? You're shaking."

Bertrand collapsed gratefully into the armchair and watched Robin sink to his knees at his side and take his hands, pressing gentle kisses to them.  
"I love you. We're okay. Thank you for talking to me about it." He nodded weakly, a little unsure of how to proceed after the dramatic confessions of the last few minutes. Robin took a deep, nervous breath. "Do you want to talk more, or... maybe I could take your mind off it?"

Their eyes met, and Bertrand was surprised to feel a shiver of nerves run down his spine. Robin looked anxious, afraid he'd said the wrong thing, afraid he was pushing too far. He squeezed his hand to reassure him.  
"I love you."


	30. Chapter 30

Robin gazed up at Bertrand, still kneeling at his feet, slightly to one side, holding both of his hands... This, he realised, would probably be how he would propose, one day soon. The thought sent shivers down his spine, but this wasn't the time for such pleasant imaginings. Bertrand needed reassurance, he needed comfort, he needed... well, Robin wasn't quite sure, to be honest.  
"B?" His lover nodded slowly, apparently uncertain of what was coming. "What can I do to help? What do you want?"

The vampire's frown deepened; it seemed he hadn't been expecting the question.  
"I want... I don't know." Robin stroked a thumb over the back of his lover's hand and tried again.  
"You said you needed to feel safe, and loved, and special. How can I give you those things?" Bertrand bit his lip.  
"I... blood, you probably think I'm disgusting now." Robin sighed.  
"I don't, Bertrand, I'll never think that. You thought I'd be disgusted by your scars, once, remember?" His lover nodded reluctantly, but he didn't look convinced. "And I'm not. Your scars -  _all_  your scars, B, even the ones nobody can see - they're part of you. And I love you."

Bertrand turned his face away with a grimace.  
"I don't know how you can bear to look at me." Robin shook his head in despair.  
"Look, if you want, you can take your shirt off and  _watch_  me look at you. I'll prove I'm not disgusted." Bertrand's head snapped back round, and Robin wondered if he'd hit a nerve, but then the vampire let go of his hands, slowly reached for his top button, and undid it, fearful eyes never leaving Robin's as he worked his way down the buttons and pushed his shirt aside, revealing all the scars Robin knew so well. He didn't bother trying to hide his appreciation of Bertrand's physique, but he kept glancing up at his face to check he didn't feel like a piece of meat being devoured by Robin's eyes. On the contrary, Bertrand seemed to be trying to see past the mask, waiting for Robin to show his true revulsion. "B... I really want to touch you. I want to kiss your scars, I want to make you feel as precious as you  _are_  to me. May I?"

Bertrand hesitated, and for a moment Robin wasn't sure what his answer would be. He kept his hands on the floor at his sides, where Bertrand could see them, and waited patiently. He was rewarded with a determined nod.  
"Please do, I... I want that too."  
"Sure?" An urgent, frantic nod, and Robin raised himself on his knees and leant up. Bertrand had to shuffle forwards slightly on the chair, but he managed to trail kisses after his fingers as they ran over the vampire's marked torso. He peered up at his face as best as he could, and saw Bertrand close his eyes against the pleasure before they snapped open again, panic filling them for a second. Robin was then treated to a very impressive demonstration of just how long Bertrand could go without blinking.

* * *

Robin's lips on his skin felt good, his hands felt  _good_... he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation, and found himself unable to keep hold of the knowledge that it was  _Robin_  touching him. He forced his eyes open, sighing with relief as he realised that the cool hands trailing over him did indeed belong to his lover, who'd obviously been holding his hands for too long. He kept his eyes open for as long as he could before they began to sting and he grabbed Robin's wrists to put some distance between them. The boy didn't even seem surprised.

"It's OK," he heard the boy murmur as he finally blinked, "it's just me. Want me to stop?" Eyes opening slowly, he shook his head and then closed them again, letting go of Robin's wrists.  
"I can do this, I'm fine. It's no different from yesterday, right?" He didn't need an answer, but Robin spoke anyway.  
"You feel different. You don't have to pretend for me, B, I don't want you to-" He wrapped his arms around the boy and lifted him easily onto the arm of the chair again, angling his body slightly so that he could look right into Robin's eyes and tangle a hand into his hair.

"Kiss me." He almost retracted the demand, realising how forceful he sounded, but then Robin was leaning in and claiming his lips as gently as he could. Bertrand found himself scrunching his eyes shut and pulling Robin on top of him in the chair, struggling against the panic that rose up. It helped, he thought, that Robin was keeping his hands behind his back as he straddled him, but suddenly he didn't want to be  _helped_  any more. He didn't want special allowances to have to be made, he didn't want to have to fight for control when he was with his boyfriend. He clutched at one of Robin's hands, bringing it to rest on his bare chest and sighing contentedly when the other joined it, tracing warm patterns on his skin as Bertrand deepened the kiss. Robin pulled back for a second.

"Sure you're OK?" He was sure that if his heart could pound, it would be doing so, but he nodded all the same.  
"I don't want to be afraid of you." Robin kissed him again, but this time it was Bertrand who pulled back. "I think I know what I need to do."  
"What is it, B?" The vampire closed his eyes for a moment, then reopened them.  
"I'd need your help, you can say no, it's dangerous-" Robin was nodding at him trustingly.  
"Anything."

Bertrand took a deep, if futile, breath.  
"It's... the thing that... I just..."  
"Bertrand. Calm. It's just us." Of course, of course it was.  
" _Bite me_." The moment he'd said it, he panicked; he couldn't take that back, it couldn't be unsaid - but Robin's eyes widened in concern, not horror, and he thought there might even be a flicker of lust hidden in their depths.  
"Surely that's just gonna freak you out-"  
"Yeah, probably. That's why it's dangerous. Forget it, I just wanted to try to prove-"  
"Shh. Do you want me to, Bertrand?"  
"It was completely unfair of me to ask-"  
"Do you  _want_  me to, B? Yes or no?" Bertrand swallowed; he was terrified, more terrified than he would ever admit to being, and Robin was waiting for an answer.  
"Yes."  
"Then I will. But if you want me to stop, tell me, OK?" He nodded mutely and waited for the terror to begin.

* * *

Robin had no intention of scaring his lover more than he could help. For a moment, he did nothing at all, and then he leant down and claimed cold lips once more, gradually kissing his way around to whisper in his lover's ear even as Bertrand moved the breather's arms so that they were draped loosely over his shoulders. He hadn't wanted to trap him in that much, but it seemed Bertrand was determined to go through this trial by fire. His whisper sent shivers down the vampire's spine.

"Where?" The vampire didn't answer verbally, just tilted his head to expose his neck and squirmed a little underneath Robin. He had to take a deep breath to keep his focus. "Sure?" A nod, another moan, and then a whisper that sounded as if it was being ripped out of him by some unseen force.  
"Please, Bran, now, do it now-" This was weird, but it wasn't like he hadn't nipped at Bertrand's neck before when they were kissing; this couldn't be too different.  
"I love you," he whispered, and closed his teeth on the soft flesh of Bertrand's throat, hoping he wasn't biting too hard.

Bertrand's hands scrabbled at his back and his hips bucked beneath him, but he didn't let go, knowing Bertrand would tell him to stop or just throw him across the room if that was what he wanted.  
"Fo- Br- hel- pl-  _Robin_." The last was a moan, and Bertrand's hands slowed their frantic movements slightly, becoming soft stroking motions as the vampire finally relaxed beneath him.

"Oh, for blood's- you were  _fighting,_ and this is  _my_  library, and... just... I'll wait outside." They'd both looked up as one at Vlad's outburst, and now they watched him slam the door behind him as he disappeared as suddenly as he'd arrived. Bertrand still looked a little worse for wear - Robin brushed a tear from the vampire's cheek before the older man could notice it and rebuke himself, and then set to soothing the bruised skin of his lover's neck with lips and tongue.

"I should put my shirt back on." Robin made a soft noise of complaint against Bertrand's throat, but reluctantly pulled back.  
"Are you OK?" Bertrand met his eye, fumbling with his buttons.  
"I am for now. I don't know about..."  
"We'll worry about later, later," Robin promised him, "but right now we should probably let Vlad back in."  
"Robin, wait-" He turned, halfway to the door already, and marvelled at the change in the vampire now rising from the armchair. Bertrand was once more the composed, restrained - fully clothed, unfortunately - tutor and advisor Robin had seen operate around Vlad for so long. And then he crossed the room to take Robin into his arms for one brief, passionate kiss. "- _I love you too._ "

Then he stepped past his lover and swung open the library door.


	31. Chapter 31

"A trust exercise." Vlad didn't look convinced, but Robin was nodding and Bertrand was  _almost_  entirely sure they could pull this one off if they just stuck to their guns.  
"Yes. Robin biting me will help him feel safer when it comes to the time for the situation to be reversed." He paused. "It's in a fair few breather psychology books."  
"Well, you certainly seemed to be enjoying yourself." Vlad sighed. "I'm glad you made up. Just... not in my library, yeah?"  
"Sorry, mate." Robin hung his head for all of about twenty seconds, and then a cheeky grin spread across his face. "But how could I resist? Have you seen this guy?"  
"More of him than I'd ever intended to, certainly," Vlad grouched, and Bertrand felt himself tense a little as he realised Vlad might have seen his scars. Robin moved instinctively in front of him, as he had all those years ago when  _another_  Dracula had walked in on them, and he realised that Robin's body had probably been blocking Vlad's view earlier as well. That was some relief. "Now, have you sorted out the whole... love clause thing?"

Bertrand blinked; he'd almost forgotten that when Vlad had left, Robin had still been convinced that Bertrand didn't love him and Bertrand had still been convinced that his love wasn't good enough to save Robin. He had no idea what Vlad had thought.  
"He's not drinking the poison," Robin stated firmly, "or no more trust exercises ever." Vlad turned a little green.  
"Too much information, thanks, Robin. So... when are you going to do it? Bite him, I mean, not... yeah." The only breather in the room turned to look at Bertrand for an answer. He raised an eyebrow.  
"Not until we know what you're doing about your family." Robin heaved a heavy sigh and turned back to Vlad.  
"He's probably got a point." Vlad nodded.  
"Well, your license has some run time, and you've got things to wrap up first- oh, that reminds me, Jonno called to ask if I'd seen you."  
"Oh, that's- he called the house, too. I forgot." Bertrand looked sheepish as they both turned their most incredulous gazes on him. "I was a bit distracted by the  _wild allegations_  being thrown around..."  
"...And the trust exercises," Robin grinned. "Did he say what he wanted?" The older vampire shook his head, but Vlad shot him a worried look and then pulled his friend towards the door.  
"Excuse us a moment, Bertrand."  _More secrets. Wonderful._

He busied himself putting the books he and Robin had knocked from the shelves back in their proper places, and tried very hard not to wonder what they were talking about outside.

* * *

"So what did he want to say?"  
"He said not to bother tomorrow, or for the next week. He said you looked awful last time he saw you and he's got stuff to do anyway - but that's not the point. You  _have_  been looking awful-"  
"Yeah, I felt a bit rough the other night, but Bertrand took care of me, like he always does."  
"And that's the other thing. Bertrand. I know he says he's not going to ask-"  
"-And he hasn't, not really-"  
"-But you can tell he's worried. It's getting to him, Robin, he's beginning to look his age-" Robin raised an eyebrow and glared at the Grand High Vampire. "-alright, so he doesn't look 400, but lately he doesn't look twenty-five any more either."  
"What are you saying?"  
"I'm saying... look, I know you're pretty keen on this thing you've got going on with Jonno, but..." The Grand High Vampire trailed off, awkwardly.  
"What?"  
"Are you sure it's worth it?"

Robin blinked at him doubtfully.  
"Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?"  
"Robin, is it really worth pushing Bertrand away over this? You know how he hates being out of the loop, you know how scared he is he'll lose you. It's the only emotion he has that he never hides." Robin thought about it for a moment, then nodded firmly.  
"Yeah. It's worth it, Vlad, trust me. We'll be fine. Are you still gonna help me?"  
"Well... yeah, I'm not gonna say anything, if that's what you mean."  
"Good. Thanks. He'll be wondering where we are."

* * *

They were settled in their coffin together that night when Robin spoke.  
"Bertrand, do you think you can only ever love one person?" He rolled over to look at him, but it was dark and Robin was staring up at the ceiling, inadvertently concealing his innermost thoughts. The vampire decided to play for time.  
"At a time, or ever?"  
"Either. Both. Is it possible to love more than one?"  
"...I don't know. I suppose so. I hope so, for Vlad.  
"Have you really never loved anyone but me?" Bertrand smiled at that.  
"I really haven't. How about you?"  
"That's different,  _I'm_  not four hundred and thirty."  
"Four hundred and thirty two," he corrected automatically. "What's brought this on?"  
"Oh, nothing. Just wondered." There was a brief pause, and then, "I'm not going out tomorrow, by the way." Bertrand considered his response very carefully before speaking.  
"We can spend some time together, then." Robin made a sleepy affirmative noise.  
"Yeah. Night, B."  
"Good night, Robin," Bertrand replied, but long after Robin fell asleep he was still staring up at the ceiling and wondering how loving more than one person and going out the next day had ever been linked in the first place.

_Robin said he wasn't cheating,_  Bertrand told himself firmly,  _go to sleep so you can enjoy your day together._  When he finally drifted off, though, his stomach felt knotted and the nightmares were waiting for him.

* * *

Robin was jolted from peaceful slumber by Bertrand's hand over his mouth. He froze instinctively, trying to see his lover's face without moving anything but his eyes; it was no use, of course. He lay still, waiting for an explanation. All he got was Bertrand wrapping his other arm around him and dragging him out of the coffin. He tried to struggle, to stand on his own and walk with Bertrand rather than being manhandled by him, but the vampire's grip just tightened and he didn't dare to keep struggling.

"I'll protect you," Bertrand whispered... and shoved him into the wardrobe, shutting the door and leaning against it.  _Well,_  thought Robin,  _this is new._  There didn't seem to be any point in trying to reason with Bertrand - he was ignored or shushed each time he tried - so in the end he groped around until he found Bertrand's smart red greatcoat, curled up in it, and went to sleep.

He woke, hours later, with a groan, artificial light spilling onto his face all of a sudden, almost blinding him after the darkness his eyes had adjusted to.  
"Nnngh five more minutes."  
"Robin," Bertrand's voice was calm, measured... and utterly bewildered. "What are you doing in the wardrobe?"


	32. Chapter 32

Bertrand's frown deepened with every word of Robin's sleepy explanation of why, exactly, he was in the wardrobe.  
"I don't think you were awake, B. It's alright, look, I nicked your coat-"  
"I shut you in a cupboard in my sleep. That doesn't sound alright to me."  
"Well, yeah, but you said you were protecting me, so... I guess you were having a nightmare or something. So  _I'm_  alright. What about you?" To his surprise, Bertrand just motioned for him to budge over and settled in the wardrobe beside him, pulling the door shut and plunging them into darkness.

"Well," he said, after a moment, "I'm clearly  _terrible_  at protecting people when I'm asleep."  
"B-"  
"I mean, really? This wardrobe is hardly impregnable-"  
"B."  
"-we got it from  _IKEA_ , for blood's sake, it's not like I expect it to be bulletpro-"  
" _Bertrand._ " It was too dark to actually see Bertrand but he  _heard_  him gulp. One did not grow up in the Branagh household without picking up on the tone of voice Mrs Branagh used when you were really for it. "Are you alright?" There was a pause as Bertrand no doubt weighed his answer carefully.  
"I'm not sure," he said at last, and Robin let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. At least it seemed Bertrand had decided to be honest rather than deflecting again. He shuffled over until he could rest his head against Bertrand's chest, the vampire's arms coming round to hold him.  
"Talk to me, B. Tell me what you're feeling."

There was a long pause and Robin realised he might as well be asking Bertrand to fetch him the moon - by which he meant that Bertrand would try, but some serious forethought would be required. He offered another question to fill the silence while Bertrand examined his emotions.  
"Do you remember what you dreamt about?" Bertrand's grip tightened and for a moment Robin was sure he was going to say he didn't, dodge the conversation. But then he sighed.  
"It was him. My sire. He was... I thought I was just dreaming, but then you weren't there when I woke up-"  
"Bertrand.  _Calm down_ , I'm here. I'm safe. Tell me what you dreamt."  
"I- He was in the coffin room, in our house, and he just  _looked_ at me, like... like he  _did_. It made my skin crawl." He took a deep breath he didn't need, and Robin mimicked the action without thinking about it. "And then he saw  _you_ , and he just said... 'Breathers are  _breakable_ '. I couldn't let him break you, Robin, I couldn't - and he left to get rope or something, I don't know, he always did prefer the bound and helpless type, and I... I had to hide you." Robin nodded, patting his lover's arm reassuringly, but after about thirty seconds he couldn't help giggling a little bit.  
"...In a cupboard."

Bertrand wasn't laughing, though.  
"I did my best. And... and he didn't come back, and I woke up outside the wardrobe and you weren't in the coffin and I was so  _scared_ , Robin, I thought somehow he'd got past me-"  
"You thought he'd taken me." Suddenly, it wasn't so funny. "Oh, Bertrand..."  
" _Don't_. Don't pity me." Robin shook his head, useless in the darkness. "I don't need your pity, I need... I think I need to get away from you for a few nights."  
"What? Bertrand, please, I'm sorry I laughed, I didn't realise-"  
" _No_ , it's not that, I... If I shut you in a cupboard in my sleep... breathers  _do_  break, Robin, so easily, and I can't... who knows what I might do if I have another nightmare?"

That did it. Robin threw the wardrobe doors open and pulled Bertrand out into their coffin room so that they could see each other clearly.  
"B, we're going to get through this. Together. That's what couples do, it's what we've always done, really. It's just that now I know the whole situation and I guess it's brought up some memories for you." Bertrand nodded miserably.  
"I just need you to be safe, and I'm obviously dangerous when I'm asleep."  
"Dangerous?" Robin held out his arms, showing off his pale, unbroken skin. "There's not a scratch on me. You were looking after me, Bertrand; let me do the same for you."  
"No, Robin, I... I don't know what I could do in my sleep. I've thrown you across enough rooms for touching me, what if you roll over and I snap your-?" He didn't seem quite able to choke out the word 'neck'; he turned his face away. "Maybe it would be safer for you to go and stay with J-" Robin tightened his grip on Bertrand's arm, a subconscious reflex, but Bertrand seemed to change his mind about what he was saying. "...somebody else."

* * *

Bertrand had hoped that his little slip would go unnoticed, but it seemed it wasn't to be.

"Stay with... Jonno? Is that what you were going to say?" He nodded reluctantly. "Why would I stay with him?"

Bertrand looked round to find Robin wearing his most bewildered expression, which was quickly exchanged for something far more rare and worrying - his  _thinking_  face.  
"You don't think... Oh, blood. Bertrand, are you... Do you think... Are you saying I've been cheating on you with him?" Bertrand felt a flicker of doubt; maybe it was another slayer, maybe Jonno was just the liaison for the pair... but given the conversations he'd had in the last few days it was hard to come to any other conclusion.  
"It's... alright, I understand. Even if I wasn't damaged goods, even if I was fulfilling your needs... he breathes, I get that you'd want-"  
"Bertrand, shut up before I have to punch you." His eyes widened; Robin had  _never_  threatened him, and now- "Figure of speech," his lover amended hastily, but he did look quite cross. Bertrand obediently fell silent, having run out of things to say anyway.

Was this it? After everything, after six years, was Robin about to tell him that actually, he preferred someone else? Or that he'd have to share him until the slayer died? Would he keep lying, keep hiding his secrets? What had happened to them? Bertrand would have given anything - he would have spent another week with his scumbag of a sire, if he had to - to know the answers ten minutes ago, but now he just wished the conversation wasn't happening.

"Is that really what you think's been going on?" Bertrand sighed, slumping down onto the edge of the coffin.  
"Isn't it?" Robin took the old windowseat and sat for a moment with his head in his hands.  
"I wasn't going to tell you... it was supposed to be a surprise." Oh, yes, the very best kind of surprise, in Bertrand's book, was the kind that shattered your heart into a million pieces and then stamped on them.  
"I need to know, Br-" he choked on the pet name, "Robin."

Robin seemed to take his time deciding whether to talk.  
"I wasn't going to, until..." He seemed to decide that the end of  _that_  sentence, at least, was remaining a secret for the time being. "You think... you think that's why I've been disappearing?"  
"Jonno said you were safe, and he seemed to know what you'd been doing. It seems logical to assume-"  
"You and your damn logic, Bertrand!" The boy looked  _wounded_ , as if it wasn't Bertrand who was going to suffer for this more than anyone. "He  _does_  know what I'm doing, but it doesn't mean I'm doing  _him_!"  
"Then why does he get to know your secrets while you sneak around behind my back? Why is it that he calls you and your plans change?"  
"Because he's-" Robin stopped and took a deep breath. "Because..." He reached forward and managed to snag Bertrand's hands from where they'd been resting in his lap, pulling the vampire across the room to sit beside him on the windowseat.

Bertrand stared down at his hands, clutched tightly in Robin's.  
"Please don't hate me," Robin pleaded, "I'll tell you why I've been disappearing. Vlad's right, it's not fair on you to keep sneaking around... I'm going to tell you everything."


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry - that cliffhanger is going to have to keep on hanging, because this is another flashback.

_"Bertrand," Robin began one night as they climbed the stairs to their room, "do you- are you happy?" He frowned._  
"Of course I am." He swung open the coffin and began unbuttoning his shirt as Robin closed the door behind them.  
"I mean... with... with us not having-?" He spared the boy the trouble of finishing the sentence; he was bright red as it was and it was almost enough to get Bertrand's heart pounding as it hadn't for four centuries.  
"I... it's my problem, Robin, not yours. Do you... I mean, are you happy with it?" Robin nodded, but then he glanced up at him from under his eyelashes. That, in Bertrand's experience, always meant trouble.  
"Yeah, but... if you wanted to... I think I could..." Bertrand narrowed his eyes suspiciously as the boy floundered, clearly struggling to find the words. "I know we tried a few months ago, and it didn't go too well, but..." His brain swiftly filled in the gaps, eyes widening in surprise.  
"You want me to... try that again?" He'd try, if Robin wanted it, but he didn't think he'd be any more successful this time - even thinking about it was causing him to panic. But Robin wasn't out of surprises yet.  
"No. I want to try it for you."

_It took a while for that sentence to make sense, and when it did the understanding came with a rush of imagery that completely blindsided him. He didn't want Robin to lower himself so, to devote himself to pleasing Bertrand with no hope of reciprocation... but his body seemed to want it, and want it a great deal. Then reality set in; he couldn't give over control like that, let Robin determine his pleasure so completely - his hand was one thing, but his mouth-_  
"If... if you want, you can have all the control. I won't even move unless you tell me to, I... you can... if it helps." Bertrand frowned.  
"How-?" And then Robin was kneeling in front of him, gazing up at him with an expression of absolute trust.  
"I don't know if it'll feel... I haven't done anything like this before, Bertrand, but-" he paused to lick his lips, "-I want you to feel good." Bertrand crouched opposite him, leaning in and tucking a finger under Robin's chin to draw him into a kiss. When he pulled back, he looked worried.  
"Are you sure?" He nodded, and Bertrand glanced around them, looking for something. In the end, he stood up and pulled Robin closer to the edge of their coffin. "If either of us want to stop, knock on the coffin. Yeah?" Another nod.

_Bertrand took a deep, futile breath._  
"Do you... do you want to try pretending I'm not in some way broken? It might be less weird and uncomfortable for you."  
"If you think you can handle it, maybe." Bertrand nodded, closing his eyes tightly as Robin reached up to undo his trousers. "B, we don't have to do this."  
"Please... If you want to try... I've never, nobody's ever..." Robin nodded.  
"Slowly, then, yeah? For both of us."

_He let Robin slip his trousers down his legs and out of the way easily enough; he'd been exposed to Robin before, Robin was welcome to touch - but then the boy leant in, breath tickling him in a way that made more than just the hair at the back of his neck rise. Robin chuckled nervously, glancing up to check that he was alright, before pressing the softest of kisses to Bertrand's inner thigh. He shivered.  
"Robin. If... if one of us needs to stop... knock on the coffin?" He nodded, and their hands brushed as they both automatically reached out to make sure they could easily accomplish the task. Then Robin moved to trail his hand cautiously over Bertrand's hard flesh, following the movement with his tongue. Bertrand's hips jerked forward and his hand flashed down towards the coffin, pausing a few inches away from giving the signal. Robin peered up at him cautiously before pressing a kiss to salty skin. Bertrand stood his ground, but his mind was racing. This... surely this should be easy, he knew this was an experience he was supposed to enjoy, but he was too busy fighting the demons in his head... and then Robin was moving away._

_"You didn't knock," he said, stupidly, and Robin raised an eyebrow at him._  
"Nor did you, but you wanted to. Bertrand-"  
"I... I want to enjoy it but it's... new. And difficult. I'm sor-"  
"What if I let you take control? Absolute, complete, one hundred percent control." Bertrand blinked at him; he didn't understand. "Here's my mouth," Robin continued, blushing furiously, "use it."

_And then he knelt there, lips slightly parted, waiting for Bertrand to make a move._  
"You're not serious?" Robin blushed even deeper and ducked his head, but his eyes soon found his way back up to Bertrand's.  
"I am. B, I trust you. Just... remember I need to breathe, and... and the signal, knocking on the coffin, but..." He swallowed hard, but there was nothing but the most sincere trust in his eyes. "Whatever you want. Pull my hair, boss me about, anything like that, I... I'm yours to command." Then he gently took Bertrand's hand, placed it on his head, and waited for instructions.  
"I... you... that licking thing you were doing earlier. I liked it, it just- could you do that again?" And Robin did, tongue flickering over his skin until he had to pull him away, and even then he simply looked up to Bertrand, waiting for his next order. Oh, blood, he was serious, and Bertrand didn't know what to do or say. "Fog - Robin Branagh, you'll be the death of me."

_Robin didn't answer, just opened his mouth a little and waited for Bertrand to make the next logical move.  
"Are you-?" Robin made an impatient little affirmative noise, but said no more. "Robin, I need to be sure-"  
"Yes, I'm sure, I can take it, I'll knock if I can't - now stop worrying about what _I _want, because all I want is to make y-" Bertrand bumped against his lips, then - an accident, but not an entirely unfortunate one - and Robin stopped talking in favour of opening his mouth and, gradually, allowing Bertrand to fill it._

_He couldn't prevent the moan of pleasure as he felt the warmth of the boy's mouth around him, the softness of his tongue; he barely dared to ask the boy to use it, but Robin's response was enthusiastic and increasingly pleasurable, and Bertrand almost - almost! - dared to let himself relax, hand still tangled into Robin's hair._

* * *

_Bertrand's instructions became less hesitant as time passed, and Robin was careful to obey each one to the letter. In a way, it was a relief to be told what Bertrand wanted, to share the responsibility for working out what made his lover feel good. Another time, he hoped, he could try being a little more of an equal partner, but for now he was content to stay perfectly still in between orders and wait for Bertrand to work out his own issues._

_So far, he'd only had to reach out for the coffin once - Bertrand had indeed forgotten that he was a breather - and Bertrand's hand had strayed there a couple of times, just for a second's respite before he nodded and Robin took him back into his mouth. He suspected that Bertrand was about to tap out again, because even he could tell the older man was no longer entirely in control. His hips bucked, startling Robin, but as he knelt there, letting Bertrand do all the work, what he mostly felt was peace. He and Bertrand were together, and they were finding ways to break down all those barriers Bertrand had built up, and they were going to be fine._

_The vampire pulled back all of a sudden, stumbling backwards to perch on the coffin edge, and Robin looked up at him questioningly.  
"Too close, I didn't want to-"  
"Bertrand, it's fine, really-"  
"But what if you choke?" Robin suppressed his smile at that - he was sure he'd live - and simply opened his mouth again, tongue extended, an invitation for Bertrand to do whatever he chose. His lover surprised him, wrapping his own hand around himself and holding Robin's gaze as he began to stroke. It wouldn't take much, Robin knew, to bring Bertrand over the edge - and then Bertrand's free hand shot out to bring Robin's nearer to the coffin so he could knock almost instantly if he decided he needed to. He appreciated the gesture, but he didn't look down at his hand at all, even when Bertrand released it and tangled his own hand back into Robin's hair. He just kept his eyes fixed on the vampire's. It only took the slightest touch against Robin's tongue for Bertrand to go into meltdown, and Robin finally closed his eyes on the sight of his lover at the brink of ecstasy, enjoying the sounds and - fog - _taste _of Bertrand's release._

_A few minutes later, Robin crawled into the coffin beside Bertrand, who barely stopped for permission before reaching down, stripping his lover, and executing the most exquisite series of wrist-flicks and gentle tugs Robin had ever experienced. Before long, he'd joined Bertrand in that euphoric glow that came after a really good orgasm._

_"Blood, Robin, I don't know how you did that." He chuckled, a little embarrassed._  
"Hell of a trust exercise, I'll give you that."  
"You make trust exercises seem so dirty."  
"You love it." Bertrand just pulled him closer, pressing a kiss below his ear before murmuring into it.  
"I really do."


	34. Chapter 34

_"I'm going to tell you everything."_

Bertrand was just staring at him, a mixture of horror and curiosity stamped across his face, and Robin wondered, for a moment, if this was really a good idea. What if Bertrand was really angry? What if he threw Robin out, or shut him back in the wardrobe- no, that was unfair. He'd done that to protect him; almost everything Bertrand did was to protect him. He had nothing to fear, physically speaking, from the vampire in front of him.

Of course, that didn't mean he couldn't break Robin's heart just as easily as Robin could break his.

* * *

Bertrand wasn't sure if he wanted to know or not, now; no, that wasn't right, he did  _need_  to know. He wasn't sure he was ready, that was all - he hoped Robin wouldn't go into sordid detail, but even if he kept it vague there were so many things Bertrand could only desperately hope weren't the case. What if he said that, instead of sleeping with Jonno, he'd been training as a slayer? What if he said he'd been out looking for somewhere new to live?

Robin held Bertrand's heart in his hands, and he doubted the boy even knew his own power to destroy it.

"Please,  _please_  don't hate me, B. I didn't mean to keep you in the dark for so long, or... well, I didn't mean you to think all these horrible things... I just..." His breather took a deep breath and Bertrand followed suit, holding all that useless air inside his useless lungs in the hope that it would somehow form a cushion between him and Robin's next words. These came, after a long pause, in a rush of breath. "Jonno's been taking my blood."

The world around them seemed to screech to a halt; admittedly, there hadn't been a lot of action going on in the room anyway, but the ticking of the clock seemed to slow and the sound of water gurgling through the pipes seemed to drop away altogether as Bertrand absorbed those words. He didn't know what they meant, he didn't understand... the first coherent thought that reached his brain fell straight out of his mouth.  
"You're not part of the donor programme."

He'd gone to great lengths, when the Slayers' Guild first began offering donor blood to hungry vampires, to ensure that Robin's name was never added to the donor list. Mina Van Helsing had had nightmares about him for weeks. Robin hadn't wanted anyone drinking his blood but Bertrand, and Bertrand didn't want anyone tracking the boy's delicious blood back to the source and killing his most precious treasure. The slayers had agreed, and the system had worked for  _years_. He didn't understand why that would change now.  
"No, I'm not. I told you, Bertrand, ages ago. No-one but you."

* * *

Bertrand didn't look particularly enlightened by this, so Robin squeezed his hand gently and took a moment to think about what he was going to say before continuing.  
"When I was a kid, yeah, there were these sweets everyone really liked, with... they had milk chocolate ones with white outsides and white chocolate ones with brown outsides, like opposites, see." The vampire was looking at him as if he'd grown an extra head. "And they were _lush_. But then they stopped making them. And every so often I'd be like  _oh, I could really go a packet of those sweets right now_ , but there weren't any. There never would be again."  
"A heartbreaking story," Bertrand conceded, "but if you're going to break  _mine_  I suggest you get on wi-"  
"Will you just  _listen_?" The vampire's mouth snapped shut. "And then they brought these sweets back and it was great, I mean, they changed the recipe and they didn't look quite right but it was close, y'know? It was nice." He faltered for a second, looking away. "I'm going to be dead soon, Bertrand. I - breather me - I won't exist. And I thought... in case you missed me being all clumsy and cutting myself all the time..."

He trailed off helplessly. The exact moment Bertrand put two and two together was clearly visible on his face; he didn't seem to know how to react as his jaw fell open.  
"You've been... bottling blood? For me?" Robin nodded and his lover lapsed into silence again. He shifted uneasily; he'd expected either relief and smiles or anger and recriminations, but he hadn't counted on this complete lack of indication as to how Bertrand felt about it all. He bore it for a few minutes, but then he started to get genuinely worried.

"B-?"  
"No. No, that doesn't add up- you came home smelling of flowers, and  _chip fat_ , and cologne-"  
"And blood." The vampire looked up at him sharply. "Remember when I brought home the bears? That was the day I started it... I came home and you smelt the blood on me. And you were  _so_  worried, B, I thought... I didn't want you to be upset like that again, so on my way home I'd go and stand somewhere that smelt stronger than blood. The slayers have got quite good at it, apparently, it reduces the temptation for any nearby vampires after they donate."

* * *

Robin was peering at him anxiously.  
"Bertrand, say something. Please."

What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to react to the revelation that the one person who meant the most to him in the whole world had been bleeding himself dry in case, one day a few centuries down the line, Bertrand got a craving?  
"And... I suppose the phone calls were Jonno trying to be subtle." Robin shrugged, looking faintly ashamed of himself. He had nothing to be ashamed of, Bertrand was sure of that. "No wonder you came back dizzy... how much?" Robin shrugged again.  
"As much as they'd take. I've got my own walk-in fridge at the base." He smiled hesitantly. "Although some of that  _is_  pizza. No, sorry, kidding. Not... shouldn't joke."

Before he was aware of moving, he was on top of his lover, glad of the windowseat's depth as he pushed Robin down to lie on his back. He could hear the boy's heart pounding as Bertrand swept down and kissed him, nipping viciously at his lips until the breather moaned and opened up to let his tongue in. It was a while before he spoke.  
"No more. Fog, this is why you passed out the other night, isn't it? You  _idiot_." Robin flinched, but Bertrand wasn't finished. "You perfect, wonderful, noble idiot. Why would you-? Why didn't you just tell me?"  
"You'd have stopped me."  
"Well, yes," he kissed him again, "but - how could you let me think so badly of you, Bran? How could  _I_  let myself?" Robin didn't seem interested in playing the 'Blame Bertrand' game, though, too busy rocking his hips up against Bertrand and pulling him back down to claim his lips.

"I mean it, though." Bertrand sat up at last, pulling Robin with him. "No more. I don't need it, Robin, and right now  _you_  still do."  
"I'm fine, I just need some time to recover, and-"  
" _No._  Thank you, really, but your health is... You do know any other breather on the planet would be disgusted by this?" Robin grimaced.  
"Couple of people might have mentioned it, yeah."  
"I... fog, Robin, I really thought... I love you  _so_  much."  
"I could never cheat on you, Bertrand. You've ruined me for everyone else, now, no-one will ever compare." He squeezed his hands firmly. "Guess you're stuck with me."

* * *

Bertrand was running his hands through Robin's hair, which always soothed them both a little.  
"Guess I am," he murmured, and Robin had to strain to hear him. "Lucky me." From anyone else, he would have suspected sarcasm, but he knew Bertrand meant it.  
"Good," he managed around the lump in his throat, "then you know I'm not going anywhere no matter how many cupboards you put me in. If it happens again we'll just have to put a pillow in there or something."  
"Bran-"  
"Bertrand, I mean it. I don't want us to fall apart. I nearly broke us by keeping secrets, I'm not abandoning you when you need me as well." A kiss was all the answer he got, and he just hoped it was an agreeing-with-my-sensible-boyfriend type of kiss.

A few minutes later, he was curled up with his head resting on Bertrand's lap. He was getting to be quite fond of this windowseat, actually, despite the disconcerting lack of corresponding window.  
"Bran," Bertrand began, and Robin smiled. He was  _never_  'Bran' this often in one day; Bertrand must have really forgiven him after all. "I know you don't want to talk about this, but... we need to at least  _think_ about what we're going to do about your family." Robin sighed softly; he knew the vampire was right, but that didn't make it easy.  
"Ten more minutes snuggling?" Bertrand raised an eyebrow. "Then we'll talk about it, I promise."

Bertrand wriggled until Robin had to sit up, shifting until they were wrapped around each other, sitting against the wall, feet on the seat and legs entwined. Apparently his definition of  _snuggling_  wasn't enough for the vampire.  
"Mm, alright, you're lucky I love you." Bertrand was teasing, but Robin took advantage of their new position to make eye contact.  
"I know I am." He was even luckier that Bertrand would  _say_  it now, without Robin saying it first, without needing it to be repeated back to him to stop him worrying himself to death about having said the wrong thing. Sometimes, though, it was good to remind him. "I love you too."

There was silence for a few minutes, Bertrand choosing to communicate by rubbing their noses together instead of actually speaking, until...  
"Oh yeah, before I forget." Robin moved his head back slightly to see what was so important, and Bertrand delivered a swift kiss to the tip of his nose, smiling. "Idiot."


	35. Chapter 35

"Robin." He lifted his head from Bertrand's shoulder to look at him properly. "You said we'd talk about-"  
"In ten minutes, I said-"  
"It's been twenty-five. Robin, I know you don't want to talk about it, but it's important. What do you want to do about your family?"

Clearly, snuggling was no longer going to delay the awkward conversation. Robin supposed he was just going to have to face it... Or not. He pulled Bertrand closer and kissed him, hoping to distract him and pleasantly surprised when Bertrand didn't object to being wrapped in his arms. The vampire did, however, pull back.  
"That's not going to get you out of answering." Robin huffed.  
"Well, I don't know! What do people usually do?"  
"People are usually  _taken off the streets_ , Robin, they're usually  _murdered_. Some even have  _funerals_  before they wake up. You're something new."  
"Can we... I mean, do you think Vlad would mind if we... got him to lift the mind-wipe?"

Bertrand thought about it for a moment.  
"Well, I suppose he might – your sister already knows, after all."  
"But they... they're still gonna get old and die and I'm not. Maybe I should just... not watch.  _I_ could have a funeral. I wouldn't be breathing or anything, all I'd have to do is lie still-"  
"There are two problems with that plan, love."  
"Are there? One day I'll get a plan right..." He sighed despondently. "Go on, let's hear them."  
"Well, for one thing, you couldn't stay still if your unlife depended on it."  
"Can too." Bertrand raised an eyebrow at him. "Look, I'll prove it." He flopped against Bertrand and concentrated very hard on trying not to move. "See?"  
"Talking might give the game away a bit, Bran." Robin stiffened again, and he thought he was doing quite well until Bertrand wrapped his arms around him and began kissing his face, one hand trailing up his leg.  
"Bertrand! That's not gonna happen at my funeral. Look, I can-"  
"You'd burst into tears the moment the eulogies started. You might be able to pretend you've died, if that's really what you want, but no funeral. Not with a viewing, at any rate."

Robin huffed.  
"Alright then, what's the other reason?" Suddenly Bertrand was looking at him with an expression of infinite kindness and love, and Robin was just glad he was still wrapped in those strong arms, because he had a feeling what came next wouldn't fill him with warm fuzzies the way Bertrand's tenderness did.  
"Even if they think you're dead, you won't be able to stop watching them. You'll check up on them. You'll follow their triumphs and their failures and one moonlit night you'll find yourself standing by a gravestone and wondering what happened." Robin was about to ask how he could be so sure, but Bertrand shook his head gravely. "It was a long time ago. I only had one sibling, the line ended within two generations."  
"My family... there are hundreds of us, we'll go on forever." He saw the problem. "And so will I, so I'll always watch." Bertrand nodded sadly.  
"Probably. But I'll be here for you. Unless... it's not too late, Bran. You can still walk away from all this. I won't leave you, I'll stay with you as long as you want me-"  
"Don't be an idiot." He kissed him, surprised by the tension in Bertrand's body as he threw his arms around him. "Are you alright?" Bertrand's eyes were wide, staring into the distance at something Robin couldn't see, and he backed away to give the vampire some space. "B. B, you're alright. Sorry." He seemed to come back to him slowly, glancing around the room as if to get his bearings.  
"No, I'm... I'm sorry. I suppose I'm still a bit shaken." Robin patted his hand awkwardly and changed the subject back to their original discussion. "Could we just not mention the vampire thing?"  
"You want to see them, don't you?" Robin nodded.  
"Well, yeah, I mean if I'm going to watch them all get old anyway..."  
"Then don't you think they'll notice when Chloe overtakes you in age? They already think I have some kind of secret beauty routine." He grimaced. "Your Mum spent an  _hour_  quizzing me about it last time we went round."  
"Fog. Yeah, we're gonna have to come clean. They'll be fine with it, I'm sure. We need to ask Vlad if he'll lift the mindwipe."

* * *

"Hello, Mrs Branagh. Yes, it is. We're very well, tha- Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Actually, we were just wondering if we could drop round for a bit... Tea would be lovely, thank you, if you're sure. We thought maybe tomorrow afternoon? Are you sure that's alright? It  _has_  been a while, hasn't it? Of course we'd love to see the twins, if they do drop by. Well, I'd better not talk your ear off now, or we'll have nothing to say tomorrow. I look forward to it. You too, Mrs Branagh. Bye."

He hung up and glared at Robin.  
"What's so funny?" The boy completely gave up on stifling his smirk and burst into unashamedly raucous laughter.  
"You, on the phone. To my mum. You're just... priceless."  
"I don't understand-"  
"Your  _telephone_   _voice_ , it gets so much more pronounced when you talk to my mum-"  
"I don't have," he wrapped an arm around Robin's waist and pulled him close, "a telephone voice."  
"You do," Robin protested, snuggling in nonetheless, "and now you're using your coffin voice."  
"Mm, am I now?" He snapped out of it, though, as he remembered that they still needed to go and talk to Vlad before night fell. "Are you calling Chloe?"  
"Yeah, I suppose." The younger man made no attempt to move out of his lover's arms, though, simply reaching out to snag the phone and dialing a number from memory.

"Chloe, it's your favourite brother! What do you mean, what makes me say that? Look at the competition. Alright, whatever, you're not getting anything off us for Christmas this year now. How are you, anyway? Yeah, we're alright.  _Better_  half is debatable-"  
"No, it's not," Bertrand teased, nuzzling at Robin's hair, and from the way Robin rolled his eyes he knew Chloe had heard.  
"You two bully me, you know. I should make a complaint. I don't know – whoever you complain to about siblings and four-hundred-year-old know-it-alls. Anyway, yeah, he's fine, but we're going over to Mum and Dad's tomorrow for tea and we thought maybe you could get yourselves invited as well. Mum says the twins might pop in and it'd be good to see everyone."

There was a long pause as Chloe said something on the other end of the phone.  
"Up to something? No, why would you- hey!" Bertrand plucked the phone out of his lover's hand and took over.  
"Alright, Chloe? Yes, we are up to something; no, we can't tell you what it is. You'll find out tomorrow, hopefully. We've just got to get clearance for something off of Vlad." Then, before she could ask any questions, he handed the phone back to Robin.  
"I really can't tell you, Chlo. Just trust us, OK? And... well, we could use you there tomorrow, crowd control I guess. Yeah. No, we're alright, promise. Yeah. Yeah. Alright, see you tomorrow." He hung up. "You don't do it to Chloe, you talk like a normal person. What's so special about Mum?"  
"She's your mum, Robin. A little respect never hurt anyone."  
"Whatever. Suck-up. Let's go and see Vlad, yeah?"

* * *

In fairness, Robin supposed, Vlad had heard him out before he refused the request.  
"No. I did that for a reason, Robin, I'm still not completely happy about Chloe knowing-"  
"But things are different now. Besides, Chloe's fine with it, it's not like she's signing on with the undead or sharpening a stake. I'm sure Mum and Dad could cope with knowing vampires exist."  
"And knowing you're one of them? I'm not sure this is what they wanted for you when you were a kid and they thought about your future."  
"No, they wanted me to be happy. And Bertrand makes me happy, they know that."  
"Even," Bertrand interrupted, "when I stop you sneaking around with Jonno making yourself ill?"  
"Even then," he promised, turning back to meet Vlad's quizzical gaze. "I told him."  
"And everything's alright between you two?"  
"Never better," Bertrand's arm slipped around Robin's waist and squeezed gently. "But Robin doesn't want to lose his family.  _I_  don't want to lose his family. And I don't think they'd be too keen to lose him."  
"Us." Bertrand glanced at him, confused, at his firm correction. "They wouldn't be too keen to lose  _us_. You're..." He hesitated, but there was really no point skirting round the subject. "You're part of the family, B."

Vlad sighed.  
"Fine.  _Fine_ , but I'm not sticking around to explain. I'll come in, lift the wipe, and then leave you to it. Alright?" Robin's face lit up.  
"Thanks, Vlad, I knew you'd understand."  
"I still think it's a  _terrible_  idea. When are we doing this, then?"  
"Tomorrow afternoon. We were going to borrow one of the cars-"  
"I'm driving, then." Vlad had a small fleet of cars with tinted windows; they'd be able to get close enough to just speed into the house. "Actually, we'll take two; then I can drive home and you still have somewhere to hide when they get the stakes out."  
"That was a  _dream_ , Vlad."  
"Still. Two cars. And  _Bertrand_  had better drive."  
"You know I can't-"  
"Neither can Robin." The Grand High Vampire found himself shrinking back from two fierce glares.  
" _Robin_  is a perfectly safe driver-" Bertrand began, at the same time as Robin retorted,  
"Oi! I've got a licence."  
"Oh, well," Vlad shrugged, "your terrifying rollercoaster of doom."


	36. Chapter 36

"Robin," Bertrand murmured, "are you asleep?"  
"Mmm, no. You?" The vampire couldn't help but chuckle at that.  
"Incredibly, no." He paused a moment before continuing. "Nervous about tomorrow?"  
"A bit." His breather huffed. "Not the driving."  
"I didn't mean the driving, Bran."  
"Can we just... not talk about it?" Bertrand nodded, pulling Robin closer, settling ready to sleep. Robin, however, seemed less keen on this idea. "Mm, you alright tonight?"  
"I don't plan to lock you in a cupboard again, if that's what you-"  
"It's not what I mean. I just... are you OK?" Bertrand pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to his lover's cheek.  
"I'm fine. I'll be... yeah, I'm alright."

Robin wriggled free of his arms, though, and turned to face him.  
"He's dead, Bertrand. Long ago. You beat him." He shook his head; in the end, his sire had won. He'd got between him and Robin, he'd made him a ruined shell of what he might have been. "And even if he wasn't," Robin was continuing, "you know I can look after myself, right?"  
"You're a-"  
"-breather, yes, trained by the best vampire tutor  _ever_  and kept very well exercised to boot." He smirked, but Bertrand didn't return it.  
"Breathers are-"  
"Don't even say it." Robin's voice was firmer than he'd ever heard it. "Don't you  _dare_  believe what he said to you, Bertrand. You couldn't break me if you tried. And you wouldn't try."  
"Ro-"  
" _No_ , Bertrand. He can't hurt you any more, I won't let him. And he can't make you hurt  _me_."  
"He's dead."  
"His memory isn't. But I'll protect you, B, I won't let anything bad happen to you."

There was silence for a while before Bertrand spoke.  
"Robin?" The boy opened his eyes. "Could you... just talk to me for a bit?"  
"About what?"  
"Anything. Just... I need to hear your voice. It... you make me feel safe." Robin snuggled up against him and squeezed his hand.  
"Remember that time we went to my parents' and nearly got busted?" Bertrand grimaced, but Robin laughed. "Ah, if you're pulling that face, you can't be remembering it right."  
"Go on, then. How should I be remembering it?" Somehow, Bertrand suspected that this wasn't going to help him sleep.

* * *

_"Robin." He froze, hand still resting far-from-innocently on Bertrand's thigh._   
_"What?"_   
_"We can't do this here. Your parents are right-"_   
_"-Downstairs, yes. I'm sure you can be quiet."_   
_"Fog, Robin, we'll get caught-"_   
_"No, we won't, they won't come in here." For a moment, the darkened room was silent and still, and then Bertrand made a tiny wanting sound._   
_"Oh, blood. Fine. You know I can't resist you."_   
_"Shhhhhhh." Robin pulled him on top of himself, easing them both out of the pyjamas they'd been provided with upon arrival at the Branagh house. "Less talking, more touching."_

_Everything blurred, after that, into a flurry of hands and sensations and desperately stifled moans and frantic kisses and they were thrusting desperately against each other when there was a knock at the door._   
_"You alright in there, Robin? All that thrashing about, sounds like you're having a nightmare-"_   
_"Don't come in!" It was practically a yelp, and he had to stop and take a deep breath before continuing. "We're fine, Mum, just trying to get comfy..." Vampire and breather lay frozen, waiting to hear if she'd believed them or not._   
_"Alright, then. Night, boys." She carried on along the hallway, and Bertrand rolled off of him to bury his face in the pillow._   
_"Oh, blood, I knew this was a bad idea. Why do I let you talk me into these things?" The mood was well and truly broken, and Robin reached over to pick up their pyjamas from the floor, helping Bertrand back into his before putting his own on._   
_"Just in case they decide to wake us up in the morning."_

_But just as Robin was closing his eyes, Bertrand leant over to murmur in his ear._   
_"You wait 'til I get you home, Robin Branagh." He smiled._   
_"Promises, promises. Night, B."_   
_"Good night, Robin."_

* * *

"You're right," Bertrand conceded as Robin's story drew to a close, "your recollection of events seems to be missing the awkward breakfast table scene where your dad wasn't having any of it and started on about how it wasn't as if the twins had never brought people back."  
"That bit wasn't as funny." Robin leant in to whisper in his ear. "Remember when we  _did_  get home?"  
"Mm, I remember it knocking us both out pretty well." He rocked his hips restlessly. "And I can't sleep after a story like that..."  
"Well, then." Robin pulled him closer. "Better wear you out, hadn't we?"

It was the work of seconds to get them both naked, and then Robin was trailing kisses over his scarred chest again, knowing that when he felt unsettled the scars bothered him more than ever. Bertrand reached down between them to wrap his hand around them both as best he could, feeling Robin's body stir against him. Lying on their sides, looking into each other's eyes as Robin's hand shifted to join Bertrand's, they began to move, equals. Bertrand kissed Robin; Robin nibbled at his lower lip until he gasped, rolling them over... Robin froze, pulling away with a moan.  
"B, I don't want to trap you-"  
"It's you, I'm safe, fog,  _Robin_." The boy treated him to a long, searching look before beginning to move again, swooping down to reclaim his vampire's lips.

Bertrand was surprised to find that he really  _did_  feel safe.

* * *

Later, they lay pressed together, Robin wrapped tight in Bertrand's arms. He could feel the way the vampire was trying to lean away from his neck.  
"B, it's you. I'm safe." Bertrand made a soft 'hmm' noise and Robin could almost  _hear_  the frown.  
"Bran..."  
"If you bite me, it's a couple of weeks early, that's all. But you won't. I trust you." Bertrand hesitated, then shifted to rest his head against Robin's, bringing their bodies flush against one another. It was a matter of seconds before he pressed a gentle kiss to Robin's neck and closed his eyes.  
"Love you," the older man mumbled, and Robin smiled sleepily.  
"Love you too, idiot. Go to sleep." And then, with a contented sigh, he took his own advice.

* * *


	37. Chapter 37

"Robin, Bertrand, come in, it's been ages! And – Vlad Count, is that you?" The nervous couple couldn't help but smirk as Vlad visibly reverted to his eager-to-please fourteen-year-old self.  
"Hi, Mrs Branagh. I just thought I'd stop by and say hello to everyone."  
"Oh, well, everyone's in the living room, except Chloe and her partner. They're not here yet, but they will be soon. Come in and have a cup of tea."

Robin made sure he and Bertrand got on either side of Vlad on the sofa, stopping him leaving before he'd done what he came for. Conversation flowed easily, though Vlad didn't seem to want to talk much. He was looking around him almost hungrily, as if he wished he could turn back time and stay in Stokely. At last, he finished his tea, put his cup down and leapt up.  
"Well, I've got to go. Thanks for tea, say hi to Chloe for me. And... look into my eyes." The Branaghs frowned quizzically at him and his eyes glowed yellow. "Well, that'll do. When I snap my fingers, you'll remember everything." He glanced over at Bertrand and Robin. "I hope you know what you're doing." Then he snapped his fingers and made a break for the car.

"He's a vampire!" Ian, Paul and Graham spoke in horrified unison, staring after Vlad, and even Mrs Branagh looked decidedly alarmed.  
"Yeah. Yeah, he is, but it's OK. He's not dangerous, promise." Bertrand was staring at him, and he could almost read the words  _that's the best you can do?_ in his eyes. "Look, Bertrand and I wanted to tell you some-" The doorbell rang, and as if on auto-pilot, his mum went to open the door.

"Chloe, Jonno! Hello, loves. Vlad's a vampire, did you remember?" Chloe appeared in the living room almost instantly, striding over to punch him in the arm.  
"What did you  _do_?"  
"You're dating  _Jonno_? You never mentioned-"  
"You've been a bit busy with your own affairs lately, Robin. Why did you tell them that? And how are they not all unconscious?"  
"He didn't say anything, when I was-"  
"I didn't tell her what  _you_  were up to, either, Rob." Jonno shrugged awkwardly from the doorway.  
"Robin." The quiet, firm voice caught his attention and he turned back to his lover. "Might I suggest this can wait until your family gets over the shock?" He glanced across at them and realised that his Mum, Dad and brothers were indeed staring into space as if their world had just been turned on its head. Which he supposed it had.

"Mum, Dad... It's OK. Vampires are real but they don't drink blood any more, well, most of them, and Jonno and the slayers get them the blood they  _do_  need from donors- ow!" Chloe had smacked him in the arm again. "Oh, yeah, you'd probably forgotten Jonno was a slayer... Anyway, I've been living with Bertrand for  _years_  now and I've been safe enough, so-"  
"What does living with Bertrand have to do with it?" The vampire buried his head in his hands as Paul piped up. Robin sighed.  
"He's a vampire too, and... well... I want to join him."

There was a moment's stunned silence, then all hell broke loose. Chloe turned with a huff.  
"You three, get out, I'll calm things down in here. You idiot, Robin." He began to protest, but Jonno and Bertrand had got hold of an arm each and were dragging him out of the living room. Chloe closed the door firmly behind them.

* * *

Robin had eventually been dragged back in through a barely-open door, leaving Bertrand and Jonno to sit on the stairs. Bertrand had been seriously considering just taking the car and making a break for it, but that had been before Robin had gone. He was going nowhere without him; it would be cruel, anyway, to make him deal with this alone.

"So that could have gone smoother, huh?" Jonno was trying to make conversation and failing miserably. "I'm glad he told Chloe, though, do you know what it's like trying to keep a secret from that girl?" He obviously hadn't lost his knack for glaring, because Jonno continued in a hurry. "Sorry about that other secret, by the way. I know you hated not being in the loop."  
"How-? Ah. It was  _you_  he was texting yesterday."  
"He texted to say you knew and you wanted him to stop, yeah." There didn't seem to be anything to say about that, really. A silent minute passed before Bertrand spoke.  
"Don't tell his parents about that."  
"Not likely.  _I_  don't have a death wish."  
"That's not what this is-"  
"It kind of is, though, isn't it?" Sitting three steps down as he was, Bertrand couldn't see the slayer's face without turning around.  
"Is that what you really think?" Jonno was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke it was the gentleness of his voice that hurt as much as the sincerity.  
"It's just  _true_."

Bertrand's mind reeled; he was spared the problem of answering by the reemergence of Chloe, shoving Robin out of the living room door.  
"You might as well go home, this is going to be an all-night job and it's better if you're not here. You too, Jonno." He stood, nodded to Chloe, and made for the front door.

* * *

Robin hurried after his lover, uncertain of the vampire's mood. Jonno called out a farewell and Bertrand turned back, but his smile by way of goodbye revealed bared fangs and Robin's heart sank. Still, he didn't have time to dwell on it; Bertrand was folding himself into the passenger seat of the car and he was a little preoccupied himself. He got behind the wheel and pulled smoothly away from the kerb.

He'd hoped his family would take this better; of course he'd expected  _some_ surprise, but he hadn't expected the way they'd completely panicked at the memories Vlad had restored. He hadn't expected their horror at Bertrand's true identity, or their disapproval of the newly-revealed age gap, or the way Chloe's lips had thinned when Robin had reiterated his plans to become a creature of the night himself.

They'd only been driving for about ten minutes when Bertrand, who'd been staring sullenly out of the window, placed a hand on the steering wheel.  
"Robin, pull over."  
"I'm  _fine_ , Bertrand, I can-"  
" _Please_  pull over." He did as he was told, parking carefully, and Bertrand was out of the car and at his door before he could even realise tears were welling up in his own eyes. They climbed into the back seat and Bertrand pulled him into his arms without a word, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.  
"I thought they'd understand, B," he found himself sobbing, "they're my  _family_ , I thought they'd understand..."  
"They'll come round, Bran, they love you-"  
"It's not as if they don't like you, either, they just... they acted like I was telling them I wanted to die... Mum blames herself... Dad blames the video games... Ian and Paul wanted to beat you up..."  
"You did just tell them you had a death wish, love." Robin frowned, mid-sob; he'd heard someone say that before, but where? "And you  _did_  tell them you wanted to die..."  
" _Jonno._ What did he say to you?"  
"Nothing that wasn't true." Robin glared at him, brushing the tears from his eyes, until he gave in. "You  _are_  asking them to accept me  _killing_  you, Robin."

He might be broken up about his family, but  _this_ , Bertrand's miserable expression, this he could fix. He climbed back into the front seat and waited for Bertrand to follow suit before putting the car back into gear and turning it around. It was a fifteen-minute drive back to their destination; plenty of time to explain to Bertrand, though it took almost half that time just to find the words.  
"I've told you before, Bertrand, you're not killing me. I'm not giving up my life for you, because you  _are_  my life. I love you, you idiot."  
"Where are we going?" Robin ignored the question, and his vampire decided that they might as well have this conversation. "Robin, seriously, are you  _sure_  you've thought about what this means?"  
"Bertrand." His eyes flicked across to check the man was listening before fixing themselves back on the road. "Jonno thinks I'm killing myself, or getting you to kill me, because he's a slayer. I know he means well, but he's been a slayer for longer than Vlad's been a proper vampire, he's been brought up to think you're better off dead than undead." He paused, knowing exactly how his next words were going to go down.  
"That doesn't mean he's not ri-"  
"Do you honestly think he hasn't told me all this?" He heard a sharp, unnecessary intake of breath and the atmosphere in the car turned cold; he pressed on. "All the time he was taking my blood, he was telling me that the whole thing should be reminding me that I was messing with the undead, that I was throwing my life away.  _Better dead than undead_ , over and over, for  _hours_  every few days. Yeah, Bertrand, I thought about it. A lot. I've  _definitely_  thought this through. Here." He drew up outside an inoffensive-looking block of flats and pulled his mobile out. "Get down here, I need a word."

* * *

Bertrand wasn't sure what was going on, or even where they were.  
"Stay here," Robin said, a strange bitter quality to his voice, and he climbed out of the car, walking towards the entrance to the flats. Jonno emerged a few seconds later... and reeled backwards, clutching at his face. Bertrand could smell the blood from the car, thanks to the open door on Robin's side. Jonno's lip had split, and if Bertrand hadn't been so confused about what was happening, he would have been very proud of his breather.

"You can spout that nonsense at me all you like, but you leave Bertrand out of it. He's already beaten himself up about this, worse than you ever could, but he's going to turn me because he knows that's what I _want_. So leave him alone and stop the guilt trip." The words probably wouldn't have reached him if it wasn't for his sensitive vampiric hearing, but they were clear enough. Robin stormed back to the car, turning to deliver one last parting shot. "Oh, and there's more where that came from, if you so much as  _think_  about hurting my sister."

Five miles down the road, Bertrand broke the comfortable silence.  
"I thought you two were friends."  
"We are. But he had no right to go making you feel bad." Bertrand smiled softly.  
"Thanks."

Robin didn't answer; he didn't need to. He just pulled smoothly onto the motorway and headed for home.


	38. Chapter 38

The next morning, Bertrand untangled himself from the unruly mess of limbs that was Robin and padded softly downstairs to find a message from Vlad on the doormat.

_The Grand High Vampire requests your attendance for a private audience at your earliest convenience._

A formal summons; this, then, was work. His eyes lingered wistfully on Robin's sleeping form in the coffin as he dressed, but a summons from the Chosen One was not something one simply ignored. He left Robin a note, telling him where he was and asking him not to come and get him – not from a private audience – unless it was a real emergency.

Vlad was expecting him; he was shown straight into the throne room. To his surprise, Vlad wasn't sprawled across the throne as he usually sat when they were alone; today he sat bolt upright, looking every inch the king he was. Bertrand dropped to his knees accordingly, and was immediately ordered to get up and grab a chair.  
"We're not going  _that_  formal today, Bertrand, you're not in trouble." He cracked a smile as he fetched a chair from the side of the room and settled on it.  
"I'm never any trouble, your Grandness." Vlad rolled his eyes.  
"Shut up and listen. You're not being sent on any missions, either."  
"Then... what's going on?"

Vlad sat back in his throne, steepling his fingers in exaggerated thought.  
"How old are you now, Bertrand?" He frowned.  
"Four hundred and thirty-two."  
"Well over your three centuries of vampirism, then."  
"Well, yes, but I don't-"  
"And you plan to create a half-fang soon?"  
"You know I do, Vlad. What's this about?" Actually, he had a vague idea of what those two things combined to mean, but he didn't think that could be what the Grand High Vampire was angling at.  
"Well, then." The Chosen One leant forward with a grin. "How would you feel about becoming the leader of your own clan?"

Bertrand stared at him for a moment.  
"...I'm sorry?"  
"You heard me, Bertrand. Your bloodline fits the conditions; three centuries of vampirism, at least one half-fang – that is, once Robin's bitten – and you know it opens doors for you. I'd be very happy to make you a Clan Leader."  
"It would be a very small clan." Vlad nodded.  
"But a respected one. It would give you all the status of a full vampire, Bertrand, and the same to your mate. You know better than I do what benefits come with having a clan of your own."  
"I... don't know what to say."  
"Say thank you, and come and see what you think of this basic heraldry I had drawn up."

Bertrand moved to stand beside the throne, swallowing the lump in his throat as he gazed down at his very own coat of arms.  
"...Thank you."

* * *

Robin woke to find Bertrand gone, and was actually relieved. He knew Vlad had wanted to talk to Bertrand on a brief matter at some point, but it was  _perfect_  that he'd chosen today; it gave him time to prepare himself for what he had planned. Because if there was anything the last few days – months,  _years_  - had taught Robin, it was that Bertrand was precious and beautiful and deserved the world. Robin couldn't give him the world, but he  _could_  do this properly.

Except that, well, he wasn't quite sure  _how_  to do this properly. He'd read a couple of vampiric books he'd never imagined himself reading, all those years ago in Stokely, and he'd asked Vlad a few questions about it, but... the fact remained the the vampire world didn't really go in for this sort of thing; if they wanted to make a grand gesture, they made it with their fangs. Which Robin couldn't do, yet.

So when Bertrand opened the door, he simply stood and led him to a chair, sinking to his knees.  
"What's going on?" Bertrand already seemed slightly stunned; he would have to find out what Vlad had said to him, later. But right now, he had something more important to attend to. He reached out and took his lover's hands in his.  
"I know it seems a bit daft, with everything, but... hear me out, OK?" Now Bertrand looked worried, but he nodded all the same. "I know it's not the same kind of thing for vampires, but... I know when I asked you to bite me, it wasn't very romantic. And I wanted to do it properly. So... Bertrand du Fortunesa. I love you, so much, and... and I had all this stuff I was gonna say, really poetic stuff, it was dead fancy and you'd have loved it, but I can't remember it. I just... I want to spend the rest of forever with you. Can I?"

Bertrand grinned at him as if he'd just discovered a rare and precious jewel, then leant in to press something into Robin's hand. His fingers closed around it automatically, Bertrand's hand wrapped around his own to stop him looking.  
"You beat me to it. Please do. I want to spend eternity in your arms." He released his hand with a gentle kiss to the knuckles, and waited for Robin's curiosity to overcome him. He spread his fingers to find a plain pewter ring nestled in his hand. "Be my mate? Officially, I mean?" Bertrand seemed so  _nervous_ , considering that Robin had just proposed to  _him_ , and he thought it might be the cutest thing he'd ever seen.  
"Of course I will. I... yeah." He leant in and kissed him, allowing Bertrand to relieve him of the ring and slip it onto his finger, where nobody could doubt its meaning. He meant to ask him how exactly you became someone's mate  _officially_ , or what his meeting with Vlad had been about, or  _any_  of the many important questions that presented themselves... but all he managed to do was pull Bertrand down onto the floor with him and kiss him again.

Bertrand didn't seem to mind.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very slightly more graphic steaminess than usual, for plot/character development reasons.

"I should have got you a ring," Robin murmured in his ear, "I didn't think you-"  
"No, it's a breather thing." Bertrand ran his thumb over Robin's hand, surprised by the strange thrill he got from feeling the cold metal on Robin's third finger. "Vampires don't go in for rings so much as biting. Unless it's a clan ring, of course."  
"And we're half-fangs, so that's not going to happen." Bertrand raised an eyebrow at his use of 'we' in the present tense, but shrugged it off. "I'll get you one anyway. I want people to know they can't have you." His breather was grinning, despite the unusually possessive tone to his voice.  
" _You_  can't have me," he reminded him gently, "not in all the ways you'd like."  
"Doesn't matter." Robin was unfastening Bertrand's top button, pushing the fabric aside to kiss his neck, and Bertrand let him. It was Robin, he was safe. "You're mine, Bertrand, all mine, and I'm yours." He held up his hand, the new ring catching the light, to prove it. "See?"

Bertrand pulled Robin down on top of himself, reaching to kiss and nibble at his lips as the boy stiffened anxiously.  
"B, are you alright?" He nodded, fumbling with Robin's t-shirt, feeling a sudden compulsive need to run his hands over his lover's warm skin. Robin let him relieve him of the garment before asking again. "I mean it, B, you're not uncomfortable?" He shook his head; he wanted to be able to cope with the warm weight of Robin on top of him, pinning him down, trapping him –  _no_. He took a deep, futile breath and clung to his breather as he read the warning signs and tried to move off of him.  
"Please stay."  
"B, you're panicking."  
"Robin." It was supposed to be a reprimand of sorts, a firm disagreement, but his voice shook and he had to abandon it. "I want to get better, I want to be alright with this."  
"This isn't the way to do it, B. You can't just keep putting yourself through this." Robin paused. "I have an idea."

* * *

Robin scrambled to his feet and held his hand out to help Bertrand up.  
"Shirt off." He didn't give him time to obey, stripping the shirt from his back himself. "Just... lie down on the sofa." Bertrand moved towards the relevant piece of furniture, but he held out a hand to stop him. "On your front, B." The vampire hesitated; he got nervous about being in such a vulnerable position, Robin knew. Given what he'd learnt about his lover, it was hardly surprising. "You don't have t-" But Bertrand, ever one to try to prove himself, was settling awkwardly on the sofa, propping his head on a cushion.  
"What are you doing?" He knelt on the floor beside him, careful not to make him feel any more trapped than he could help.  
"You're all tense." He shrugged. "I thought maybe if you just lie here, and I'll... sort of... just  _touch_. Like a massage, but I've never done one before, so... I just thought it might help, you don't have to let me."  
"Just be careful, Bran." He wasn't sure if the caution was down to a fear that he'd hurt Bertrand, or that Bertrand would freak out and hurt him. They were both unlikely to happen, but he suspected it was the latter that was causing his lover's anxiety.  
"I will. Stop me any time you want to. I'm about to touch you, B." He placed his hand gently between the bottom of Bertrand's shoulderblades and began to stroke softly.

Bertrand stiffened and then, with a little moan, relaxed again, hand reaching back to touch Robin's ribs, as if to make sure he was still there. Encouraged, Robin began to run his hands more firmly over his lover, trying to imitate every massage he'd ever seen on the telly. Well, apart from the ones that looked painful. Bertrand seemed to be appreciating the attention, wriggling slightly and letting out a contented sigh when Robin found a particularly tense spot in his shoulder.  
"Mm, you're good at that. Knew there was a reason I love you." Robin ruffled his hair up in retaliation for the comment.  
"There are more reasons than that, and you know it." Bertrand rolled onto his back to glare half-heartedly at him, trying to sort his hair out, and Robin laughed. "You know it suits you messy, stop fussing." The vampire's arms shot out and suddenly Robin was on top of him on the sofa, Bertrand clinging to his hips as he tried to move away. "B, I told you-"  
"I can  _do_  it. I... I can." But something in his movements, in the slightly desperate kisses and the frantic shifting of his limbs, told Robin otherwise. He took a moment to consider his next action, to ponder the drop from sofa to floor... and then moved.

* * *

Robin gave up on trying to pull away, braced himself, and rolled them off of the sofa instead, allowing Bertrand's weight to settle on top of him as if it was nothing.

Before Bertrand knew what was going on, Robin was trailing kisses down his neck; he groaned and was halfway to returning the favour before he remembered that getting too close to Robin's jugular was a bad idea. Instead he propped himself up on one hand and used the other to tug at the top of Robin's jeans, just enough to convey his intentions. Robin arched his back, pushing his pelvis up towards Bertrand, and allowed him to make short work of the fastenings, pulling his clothing off and discarding it.  
"Is this celebrate-our-engagement sex, B?" Robin managed to choke out as Bertrand began to trail gentle fingers over his skin.  
"Hardly sex yet, I've barely touched you." He ran his hand down from Robin's chest to rectify the situation, drawing an urgent gasp from his lover. " _Fog_ , Robin."

Robin writhed up against him again and reached for Bertrand's trousers, but Bertrand prevented his next actions by the simple expedient of moving away, diving downwards to drive his breather to distraction with his mouth.  
"Bertrand,  _Bertrand_ \- B, oh blood and garlic. Ohh, please." He pulled away, looking up at his lover.  
"Please what?"  
"Please don't stop-" Bertrand smirked, taking his time to kiss at Robin's thighs before taking him back into his mouth. Robin, for his part, clutched at his arm, pulling until his hand was within reach of the breather's mouth. Bertrand wasn't sure  _why_  Robin was so intent on sucking his little finger, but he didn't mind letting him do it as Robin moaned and writhed beneath him. Then, suddenly, his finger was free and Robin was gasping for him to stop. He sat up, afraid he'd upset or hurt him, but Robin just seemed nervous, sitting up and guiding Bertrand's hand, never breaking eye contact.

"I promise I won't break, B." The vampire's eyes widened as he realised what his fiance meant. "I- you don't have to- I thought maybe just one-"  
"You're... you're sure?"  
"Fog, B, I want it. Please, just... if you're comfortable- please,  _please_..." Bertrand's mouth was on him again, but his hand began to creep down to where Robin wanted it, stroking softly before his wet finger began to apply gentle pressure, pushing inside as Robin yelped. He stopped everything he was doing, startled.  
"I'm sorry, I've hurt you, blood, Bran, I'm sorry-" But Robin was shaking his head, squirming against him, and Bertrand didn't know what to do about the mixed signals.  
"B, please- please just keep going..." He obediently lowered his head and let Robin continue to writhe against his hand as he brought him over the edge.

* * *

The moment Robin relaxed, slumping against the rug, Bertrand gathered him into his arms, holding him close as if he'd been afraid of losing him.  
"Tell me I didn't hurt you..." Robin gave him a look he hoped conveyed just how stupid he was being.  
"That was... I've never felt that before, B, it was hot. I love you, you didn't hurt me. I promise, B, you didn't." He reached down to Bertrand's zip, but the vampire tensed against him and he stopped, confused. "What's wrong?"  
"I can't... deal with that. I... please..."  
"You mean I pushed you too far?" Bertrand shook his head. "You don't want me doing it to you, then?" That was more like it; his gorgeous vampire grimaced apologetically.  
"I'm sorry, Robin, I just-"  
"B." He nipped gently at the older man's lip. "I'm not going to do anything we haven't done before, or anything you don't feel happy with. I just want you to feel good – I want to  _make_  you feel good."

The vampire hesitated, then nuzzled closer in against Robin's neck, listening to his gradually-steadying heartbeat. Usually, Bertrand wouldn't risk getting so close to temptation, but Robin suspected he needed the reassurance that he was with his living, breathing lover, that he was safe. Frankly, if his beloved vampire was forgetting his  _ridiculous_  fear of biting Robin any time they got close, that was fine by him. Bertrand clung there for a long moment, just holding and being held, before pulling back to smile hesitantly at Robin.  
"Celebrate-our-engagement sex, is it?" Robin smirked, hand trailing down to undo Bertrand's trousers at last.  
"Not sex yet, I've hardly touched you." And he set about putting that right.


	40. Chapter 40

"What happened?" Bertrand blinked at him sleepily.  
"Mm... you were amazing and then I was just about to fall asleep on the floor." Robin shook his head.  
"I mean, you were so much more relaxed two days ago, about having me all over you, I mean. Is this just one of those things where you have good days and bad days, or has something upset you?" Bertrand stared at him for a moment, then snapped his fingers at the lone candle still valiantly burning and pulled Robin into his arms and onto his body.  
"Shh. Sleeping now." He closed his eyes.

When Bertrand woke up, he was trapped. Something – someone – was on top of him, stopping him from moving, and one of his hands was caught... as he tried to disentangle himself without letting on that he was awake, his fingers brushed metal. Somehow, that was reassuring... but why? He wasn't in his coffin, the sounds around him were wrong, so who was-?  
"B," came the reassuring murmur, and he relaxed instantly. It was Robin, of  _course_  it was Robin, holding his hand. He hadn't slipped a ring onto anyone  _else's_ finger last night, after all. "B, you were having a nightmare again."  
"Again?" He knew he'd woken Robin with his struggles in the past – not to mention the wardrobe incident – but that didn't sound like it was what Robin meant. He opened his eyes to find a very weary breather gazing at him.  
"You've been restless all night, love. Probably because you fell asleep using me as a blanket." He smiled to show him he didn't mind, but Bertrand frowned.  
"Why didn't you move? I must have woken you up-"  
"Yeah, well, every time I tried to get off you I got bear-hugged half to death, didn't I?" Now, though, Robin cautiously stood and held out a hand. "C'mon, can we go to our coffin now?"

When Bertrand woke next, Robin was out like a light next to him, snoring gently. He lay still for a few moments, just watching him breathe; it was still a mystery, after all these years, how he'd been so lucky as to end up with such a man. At length, he slipped out of the coffin and dressed as silently as he could, disappearing down the stairs to start fixing breakfast, leaving his breather to sleep.

He was just laying food out on two plates when the phone rang.  
"Sorry to call you so early, but I need you to run a job for me." Bertrand glanced over his shoulder towards the stairs.  
"I don't suppose it could wait twenty minutes for me to finish breakfast?"  
"Sorry, Bertrand. I need you in the back of a hearse in ten minutes, and that's after I've briefed you." He sighed.  
"Fine, I'll see you in five."

It was a reluctant Bertrand who tipped both breakfasts onto one plate and shook his lover awake.  
"Bran. Sorry, love. I have to go away for work." He stroked his hair sadly. "I made you breakfast."  
"When do you have to-?"  
"Now. As soon as I've said goodbye."  
"How long-?"  
"I don't know." Robin took the plate and put it aside.  
"Looks delicious, thanks, B. I'll eat it when you're gone." He wrapped his arms around him, kissing him soundly, and Bertrand didn't mind his morning breath or the fact that even for a vampire, his position leaning over the coffin wasn't exactly comfortable. It was almost painful to pull away and begin to get dressed, a glance at the clock telling him he was going to have to run as it was. He bent to kiss Robin goodbye, surprised when Robin hissed in his ear.  
"Take some bacon and toast for the journey." A makeshift sandwich was pressed into his hand, and then it was time for one last kiss and Robin's customary parting words. "Don't you dare get killed." He nodded solemnly and sped off towards Vlad's.

"I didn't want to do this," the Chosen One admitted, once the guards were safely out of earshot, "and I know it's pathetic, but... I just need to know everything's OK." He paused for a moment, obviously gathering courage. "Find Erin. That's why I need you to go now – you should start by checking the big Slayer HQs, and you know they prefer daytime visits – and then you could try Ingrid's, she says she hasn't seen her but you know what she's like... I know you want to be here with Robin, but..."  
"I understand. May I ask two minor favours of you, grandness?" He nodded, apparently perplexed by the unusual formality. "I will return, at the very latest, two weeks before the Bite License expires. When everything's done, if my search isn't complete, I'll go back – I'll take Robin  _with_ me, if you prefer – but I  _will_  come back to make him mine, if he's still willing." Vlad nodded his acceptance of the terms, and Bertrand continued hastily. "Also, I'd rather you didn't mention the clan thing."  
"You haven't told him?"  
"I could have, but we were busy getting engaged  _properly_." He flashed a small smile in the Grand High Vampire's direction as the younger vampire beamed from ear to ear. "But I'd rather he didn't know your rather generous offer was on the table. It's too much pressure; his turning would be essential to my elevation in status, and that's all Robin would see. I want him to feel he can walk away, even at the last moment, if he wants to. Please, don't tell him we have the chance to be a clan. We can talk it over together once he's bitten."

Vlad considered this for a long moment, then shrugged.  
"You always were the clever one. Alright, I promise. But you can't tell him what you're doing. It's probably best you follow your usual no-contact rules." Bertrand nodded, and Vlad clapped him on the shoulder. "Thank you. This means a lot to me. Now you'd better head out, there's a driver waiting to take you on the Slayer tour and then you're flying solo." He was half-way to the door when his ruler's voice rang out again. "Oh, and Bertrand?" He half turned, still walking. "Congratulations."

The word rang hollow in his ears as he climbed into the back of a hearse with tinted windows and allowed himself to be driven away from everything he held dear.

* * *

Robin was just staring at the washing up, waiting for it to do itself, when the phone rang.  
"Yeah- oh, hi, Chloe." She was predictably annoyed about him punching her boyfriend in the face – though he'd held out for longer than Robin had expected before admitting who'd hit him – but assured him that Jonno had been similarly yelled at for upsetting Bertrand.  
"Anyway, that's not what I called to talk to you about," she said, "I managed to calm Mum and Dad down – the twins still think you're nuts, but at least that's probably their most intelligent thought in a decade, so let's not take it away from them, especially since they're right – but they want to talk to you soon.  _Alone_." Robin sighed.  
"That won't be a problem. Bertrand's-" he hesitated; Bertrand's work was confidential and his movements largely classified. "I can get rid of Bertrand for the day. I'll give them a ring, shall I?"

Two hours later, he was sitting in his parents' living room, wishing Bertrand was there to back him up.  
"We just don't understand  _why_ , Robin. You've got a good life, you're happy. Why do you want to... to  _die_?" He sighed; he knew this was hard for them to understand.  
"I  _am_  happy, Mum. I have great friends, and a nice house, and a place to belong. Almost all of those friends are either vampires or slayers, though, and my house is on the Grand High Vampire's estate. I fit in there, people  _like_  me. Even the High Council, and they usually can't stand breathers." His dad began to interrupt, but he ploughed onwards. "And I'm  _loved_. I love Bertrand, so much. You know that. And he loves me too. If there was ever any doubt... we got engaged last night, properly engaged, like, with proposals and everything." He held up his hand so they could see the plain pewter band he'd been given.

"I've never been so happy in my life, and I can have that forever. I'm not telling you I want to die. I just... what I'm saying is that I want this to always be my life. I don't want to get old and have people stare as I walk down the street with my... my  _fiance_ , I suppose. And I don't want to get even older, and die, and leave him all alone. He's been through so much already, and I know he hates the idea of losing me just as much as I hate the thought of losing him. You should have seen him, when we first moved in together – people on Vlad's estate looked at me like I was lunch and he didn't leave my side for weeks. He staked people he'd known for  _decades_  just to keep me safe, just because they tried to hurt me. There's never going to be anyone better for me, I promise."

That was when he noticed his mum was crying, his dad staring at him in total incomprehension.  
"I love him, Dad. And Mum, you'll never have to worry about me again. He'll protect me, and I won't get old, or sick, or  _anything_."  
"You're... you're sure this would make you happy?" He nodded. "Oh, Robin-" She was suddenly on the sofa next to him, pulling him into a tearful hug. "Look at you, all grown up."  
"You can't really be agreeing to this, Elizabeth?" She glanced back at her husband.  
"I don't see we've got any right to stop him, Graham, if it makes him happy."

His dad gave him a long, hard look, then sighed.  
"Fine, fine... You always did like all those horror films, I suppose..."  
"Thank you." It was quiet, but hearfelt. "Thanks, both of you." His mum smiled weakly at him.  
"Is there some sort of ceremony we can come to?" His shoulders slumped; he hated to disappoint them.  
"It's mostly just... he bites me, and that's it, we're together forever. We can't have a blood-binding, which is like a vampire wedding, because he's a half-fang and neither of us are attached to a clan. I mean, we live on Vlad's estate but we're not part of the Dracula clan."  
"Good thing too," muttered Graham, but Robin ignored him.  
"We... I might ask Bertrand if we can exchange vows sometime, make it a bit more formal for the family... but Vlad's insisting on keeping numbers to a minimum when it actually happens. Safety protocol, just red tape, honest." There was an awkward silence as they processed that, and then...  
"This exchange of vows, it'll be like a wedding? I'd better get myself a fancy hat."  
"Oh, Graham! You are funny..." Robin smiled. Things were going to be alright.

An hour later he was on his way out the door again.  
"Sorry, I'd love to stay, but I called ahead to a couple of jewellers and I don't want to be late..." His mother, predictably, had a little hysterical fit of excitement and shooed him away, giving him plenty of time to walk into town before his appointment. He had indeed called ahead to several jewellers, and only two had been able to promise him the sort of thing he was looking for. Of these, one had answered in the affirmative when he'd asked if someone fitting Bertrand's description had been there recently, and as much as it was tempting to go there, it seemed like a cop-out to just ask for the same ring. He wanted them to match, though, and so it was that he came to step inside the only other place in town with a good reputation for pewter jewellery.

He emerged a short while later with a pewter band, just like his own, but a little flatter and with a carefully-worked, slightly wavy effect to the edge. Bertrand had told him once that before he was turned, he'd once run away from his day's training and spent a few hours by the sea, playing in the waves like a  _normal_  child. His eyes crinkled and his lips curved upwards whenever he thought of the seaside, and Robin hoped he'd appreciate the little detail when he got back.

He went to bed alone, the coffin seeming colder than it ever had, and realised he still hadn't done the washing up. It was a mark of how wrong it felt to sleep without Bertrand beside him that he got up and did it, there and then, in the middle of the night, before tidying the living room a little, putting away a few scattered books in the library, and cleaning the shower as soon as he'd used it. He hated it when Bertrand went away; he could survive on his own, of course, he wasn't completely pathetic, but the first night was always the worst and it always just felt wrong.

In the end he scooped up the vampire teddies – Bertrand's had at some point acquired a little blue beret and Robin had  _no idea_  how that had got there, honest – and snuggled up to them instead, drifting off with the disappointing substitute for his beautiful vampire man. Wherever Bertrand was... he just hoped he was OK.


	41. Chapter 41

Robin lashed out instinctively, shoving his attacker backwards to give himself the space to regroup for a proper counter-attack. His opponent wasn't going down quietly, though, and from the corner of his eye Robin could see another figure closing in fast. He dropped into a crouch, kicking backwards and taking his second assailant by surprise, before surging swiftly upwards with a blow to the first man's face. He turned in a wary circle, eyeing the bystanders, daring any of them to try something.

"Good, Robin. You two, you need more practice." The instructor gestured for the three of them to leave the sparring area and the two slayer recruits slunk back into the crowd, but Robin stood his ground.  
"One more round, Gav? Please?"  
"You're going to strain yourself..." Gavin regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. "Fine.  _One_  more round, and only because you fighting like a vampire is way too useful to waste. Pick some opponents." He turned to the crowd and picked four slayers at random, ignoring the surprised expressions of the recruits, then turned to Gavin with a frown.  
"How long's it been since we fought, Gav?" The instructor shrugged.  
"Officially? A year or so. Actually? That time the vending machine got down to its last KitKat, and that was only for ten minutes before we realised you could split 'em."  
"Fine. Want to weigh in?"  
"Robin, you're taking on  _five_  slayers?" The boy shrugged.  
"If you don't think you can handle it..." Gavin rolled his eyes.  
"Alright, you arrogant git, but then you're going home." Robin just took his stance and waited.

Later, he sat in his library, an ice pack pressed to his ribs, reading up on the various things he was going to have to watch out for once he was a vampire. Of course, he knew most of it because he'd been watching Bertrand avoid sunlight and garlic for years, but he didn't see the harm in making sure. He shifted slightly in his chair and winced; it seemed he and Gav were as evenly matched as ever, and Gav had had four other slayers on his side. Still, his friend had only got that one blow in before he called time, and he supposed he should be grateful.

He took the ice pack away for a moment, running tentative fingers over the skin beneath it to test the bruises. It stung, but he let his hand linger, feeling the coldness of his own flesh. It took only moments to warm to the same temperature as Bertrand's, to the same temperature Robin himself would come to consider normal. His fingers ran over the area again as he tried to imagine it was Bertrand whose muscles were tensing under his touch.

It had been almost a week. A week in which he'd had no word from Bertrand, a week in which he'd carried that ring around as if it was some sort of talisman. He'd even asked Vlad – casually, over pizza – if he'd had any word, but all Vlad would tell him was that he wasn't worried. Well, good for him. Robin just wanted his fiance back.

The phone rang and Robin hauled himself out of his chair, barely daring to hope that it might be-  
"Bertrand?" His shoulders slumped as he recognised the voice on the other end of the line. "Oh, evening. No, he's... not in at the moment." The caller wasn't stupid, though. "Yes, working. I don't know. He'll... he's got to be back soon. He just... has to." He took a moment to collect himself, then attempted to conform to the social niceties his caller would expect. "Still, I suppose it means you don't have to worry about him picking up the phone for a while. Hanging up, by the way? Not that subtle. How have you been?"

They'd only been talking for a few minutes when the voice on the other end changed, becoming somehow cagier, like Vlad's did when he was trying to hide something.  
 _"I... look, Robin, something's come up, I've just seen... a, well, sort of friend's just arrived, and I should go and talk to him."_  
"Him? Friend? Are you seeing someone else?"  
 _"No!"_  
"It'd be alright, you know-"  
 _"I'm not- look, I've got to go before he leaves. Talk soon."_

Then the line went dead, leaving Robin alone once more.

* * *

Bertrand had been searching for a long, weary week, and so far he'd established that Erin hadn't taken refuge with the slayers, or left the country – at least, not under her own name. The previous morning, he'd barely staggered into a little pub in Lincoln in time to escape the dawn; he'd booked a room and gone straight to bed, wishing Robin was there to share it with him.

When he got back to his lover – his  _fiance_ , he reminded himself – he was going to suggest they take a holiday together. Before or after the bite, he didn't mind – maybe they could do both – but they'd never been away together before for any extended length of time and he  _wanted_  that. He wanted to spend the day together, even if Bertrand  _did_  have to stay out of the sunlight; he wanted to pin Robin to an unfamiliar mattress and make laundry for housekeeping to deal with instead of themselves; he wanted to hold him and know that even in such unfamiliar surroundings, they were safe. That they were together.

He missed him. Bertrand knew it was pathetic, but he missed Robin so much every time he went away. It gnawed away at him, the knowledge that Robin was somewhere  _else_ , somewhere Bertrand wasn't, and sometimes it was all he could do not to rush straight back to him, abandon the mission and smother him in kisses. It was sentimental, and foolish, and of course he couldn't let Vlad down like that, but sometimes he wanted  _so much_  to go home.  _Home_ , a thing he'd never really known before Robin. He'd seen other people experience  _home_ , of course, but he'd thought it meant a building, bricks and mortar that shielded you from the sun more often than other bricks.

He'd been wrong; home was Robin, home was the arms that held you and the hand that wiped away the weakness you couldn't keep from escaping your eyes. Home was everything that made life tolerable; home was cups of tea and arguing over the last biscuit; home was a distraction and a guilty face covered in crumbs. Home was  _Robin_ , and he wanted to go to him so badly it ached inside. It was worse, now, having been snatched away just when he should have been celebrating their engagement, and he'd woken up in the middle of the day several times, terrified that Loic Regis would get to Robin or that he'd dreamt the boy's entire existence to make his sire's dominion tolerable. He'd gone three days without sleeping at all, trying to complete his mission as fast as possible, but today he'd collapsed onto the mattress and woken knotted in the sheets as if he'd been fighting off demons in his sleep. Bertrand was largely just thankful that this evening he didn't remember his dreams.

He slipped down to the bar as darkness fell, keen to waste no time in paying his bill and moving on. There'd been rumours, among a small group of Slayers who'd run into him on a training exercise, that Erin Noble –  _the_  Erin Noble – was in Lincolnshire somewhere, or perhaps Yorkshire. He'd come to Lincoln the long way, taking in most of the county, and he'd not seen hide nor hair of the Chosen One's former flame. His next step would be to head west into Yorkshire, then sweep north. In the meantime, he just had to focus on not going home, and try not to run into any of his less trustworthy past acquaintances, any number of whom would certainly be pleased to join him on Erin's trail for much less savoury reasons than because the Grand High Vampire wished it.

He was just handing over his money when a voice behind him stopped him in his tracks.  
"Bertrand? I thought you were supposed to be on a mission?"


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback again - set shortly after the events of Chapter 12.

_The moment the door opened, Robin felt sick._

" _Bertrand?" The vampire made an odd, strangled noise and froze, his back to the door, but Robin wasn't as much of an idiot as people thought. He'd seen the rhythmic movement of Bertrand's arm; he knew what he'd been doing. What he couldn't understand was why._  
"It's not – I wasn't – oh, blood." Bertrand gave up trying to explain, fumbling to do up his trousers, and Robin waited patiently for him to turn around. This was terrible; he'd thought Bertrand had enjoyed their little experiment a few nights ago – their hands moving together, and the desperate moans the vampire had made as he neared his peak – but it had obviously been so awful that Bertrand had decided to resolve these matters alone and in secret from now on.  
"I thought – I mean, it's not like you can't – but I thought we – did I do it wrong?" Bertrand made an embarrassed little noise and Robin wondered if he should just leave and pretend he'd never walked in on this – but then Bertrand spoke.  
"I'm sorry."

* * *

_The moment the door opened, Bertrand felt sick._  
"Bertrand?" He froze, refusing to turn, as if staying still would save him from Robin's disgust. This was his private study, and nobody ever ventured in; he'd thought he was safe. He should have locked the door.  
"It's not – I wasn't – oh, blood." He struggled to make himself decent, aware of every passing second of silence. At last, he had no choice but to turn and face the music. It was time to face Robin, who looked... if Bertrand had to select a single word, he'd be forced to pick 'betrayed'.  
"I thought – I mean, it's not like you can't – but I thought we – did I do it wrong?" He couldn't quite stifle the groan that escaped him, and though it was mostly born of shame there was an indecent amount of arousal in the sound too. The mere memory of Robin's hand in his, stroking carefully along his length-  
"I'm sorry." How had he allowed Robin to reach the conclusion that he had been somehow inadequate? Even making eye contact with the boy over the last few days had... well, it had brought him to this more than once, to taking himself in hand alone in his study and crying Robin's name as he came.

" _I just don't get- I mean... we can practice, I'll do better next time, just... please let there be a next time." The boy seemed so afraid, as if he actually wanted to repeat what they'd shared a few nights before, and Bertrand began to wonder if he'd misjudged the situation.  
"I can't ask you to do that again."_

* * *

_Robin's eyes widened as he suddenly understood the problem.  
"Bertrand, I... if you asked me to do something and I didn't want to, you know I'd tell you, right?" The vampire's eyes searched his, confused, and he stepped forward to press a gentle kiss to his boyfriend's lips. "You had me worried. If you ever want me, you only have to ask." Bertrand's hand twitched involuntarily towards himself and Robin noticed the movement. "Do you want me to give you a hand again?"  
"No – I... I can't, not now-" He shook his head violently and Robin nodded.  
"Is there anything you _would _like me to do? Or shall I just go-?"_  
"Kiss me." Bertrand looked as surprised as Robin did, for a moment, but then his gaze dropped to the floor and he was speaking again. "I... if I touch... and you just-" Robin nodded, slipping around Bertrand's body to stand behind him, arms around the older man's waist.

_At least, that was the plan; Bertrand tensed and turned to follow him round. The breather sighed.  
"You want me where you can see me? OK... OK. Is the hugging alright?" Bertrand not only nodded; he gave Robin the briefest of kisses on the cheek and undid his trousers again, hanging his head all the while. Robin made sure to crouch until he could look straight up into Bertrand's beautiful, infinite blue eyes. "Shh, you've got nothing to be ashamed of. Yeah, you're a bit weird, but look how weird I am and you don't see me complaining." Bertrand looked only vaguely reassured, but then his lips were on Robin's and Robin focused on making it the best kiss he'd ever given, distracting Bertrand from his embarrassment and chasing any thoughts of shame far away. Judging by the noises Bertrand was making into his mouth, it was working._

* * *

_If Bertrand had been ashamed of his weakness before, it was nothing compared to how he felt when Robin tried to get behind him. He understood; it would be the least awkward place for the boy to stand – but he just couldn't take the risk. It wasn't that he didn't trust Robin, it was just that he didn't trust... well, he didn't trust._

_Fortunately, Robin didn't complain, just wrapped his arms around him from the front instead and told him everything was OK. As he moaned helplessly against Robin's lips, he felt Robin shift slightly so that Bertrand's hand bumped against his hip with every stroke. He was past coherent thought; he was beyond caring that he might bruise the boy, or mess up his jeans. All he could do was allow Robin's arms to steady him as he grabbed the boy's shoulder with one hand and jerked himself over the edge with the other._

_Robin grunted as Bertrand's teeth caught at his lip, and the vampire leapt back, horrified.  
"Oh blood, I'm sor-" But then Robin was stepping forwards and claiming his lips again.  
"Shhh. If you panic the moment you're done you'll waste the high. We're OK. Just take a moment to let it feel good." And Bertrand _did _feel good; better than good. He felt... brave, and strong, and not pathetic._

" _Robin..." He could hardly pretend he hadn't noticed the boy's arousal. "May I-?"  
"Mm. Please. But... can I hold your hand while you do?" He frowned; that was _his _weird control issue. Surely it couldn't be contagious. Robin seemed to read his thoughts in his expression. "I just wondered how it felt. I'm not taking the mick-" He cut himself off as Bertrand carefully unzipped his boyfriend's jeans and placed his hand cautiously into Robin's. Their hands travelled downwards together, and it began._


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers of the original FF.net version of this story might notice a slight character substitution - I wanted to stick to original characters this time.

Bertrand turned slowly as the voice continued.  
"Seriously. What kind of mission would bring you to a pub in Lincoln?"  
"That's classified, as you well know. And do you have to keep saying that word?" He tried to keep his voice even, but it was as if a fire had been lit in his heart, warming him from the inside. He'd found Erin. She was fine. He could go home.  
"Sorry." She had the grace to look a little abashed. "Got some time to catch up?" He shrugged, trying to act as if he had somewhere else to be, to complete his task.  
"A little, I suppose. How did you know I'm supposed to be working?" She dragged him into a little booth in the corner of the pub.  
"Robin told me, of course."

* * *

Robin sighed, settling into the coffin to read. He could see why Bertrand had been so frustrated by the mysterious silent phone calls; being hung up on was a strangely unpleasant experience for something so insignificant.

He couldn't seem to focus on his book; his mind kept wandering and it always found its way back to the same place; Bertrand. He was rarely away for this long at once without at least a phone call, some kind of contact just to check in, and now his interrupted call was making him edgy. What if something had happened? What if someone was picking off everyone he knew? He was being paranoid, he was sure, but...

He slipped down to the hall and dialled the number for the main house.  
"No, I know it's late – he's a  _vampire_  – I'm serious, Iliescu, just put him on the phone." He waited impatiently for the vampire to return with his ruler's reply.  
" _His grandness says – and I quote – 'If it's important enough that I have to get out of bed, so does he. Tell him to come over.' So, there you have it._ " At least he allowed Robin to agree to those terms and say goodbye before he rang off; it was a small thing to be grateful for, but it was nice of  _someone_  to observe simple social niceties like not hanging up without finishing a conversation.

He sat in Vlad's library, waiting for the Chosen One to join him. When he appeared, it was obvious that he'd just hauled himself out of his coffin, and for a moment Robin felt a little guilty for keeping him awake. Then his concerns about Bertrand resurfaced and the guilt vanished like smoke.  
"Robin, what can I-?"  
"Have you heard from Bertrand?" Vlad frowned.  
"You know he doesn't contact you when he's working, not without my say-so. Why do you seem so worried?"  
"Have  _you_  heard from him?" The Chosen One sighed.  
"No, and I wasn't expecting to. He'll call me when the job's done."  
"It's been a week, Vlad. What takes Bertrand this long?"  
"Classified." The dark, threatening tone in Vlad's voice would have sent most people packing, but Robin knew he could get away with that little bit more than most people.  
"Dangerous?"

Vlad held his gaze for a moment, as if tempted not to answer just to serve him right, but then he sighed again.  
"No. No, it's a milk run. Seriously, Robin, he'll be fine. Why are you so stressed out about this?"  
"Oh, I dunno." Suddenly Robin was angry, uncontrollably angry, and he couldn't be bothered to even try to keep it in. "Maybe because I just got engaged and I should be spending some time showing my fiance how much I love him, but instead I'm getting hung up on ominously, and he's not here and for all I know he could be dust-"  
"You're not the only person who misses someone, Robin." He cut himself off abruptly, surprised by Vlad's words.  
"Erin?" He felt sorry for his friend, of course, but he didn't see how it was relevant... suddenly all the pieces dropped into place. "...Tell me you didn't send him after her."  
"I..." Vlad hung his head. "I just want to know she's alr-"  
"Give me the batphone." The Grand High Vampire raised an eyebrow and he rolled his eyes, hand out. "Come on, we both know telepathy's still your weak spot. No way you sent him off without a phone or some other way to contact him, which means  _you've_  got a phone with a number he'll pick up a call from."  
"You can't just-"  
"Give me the phone, Vlad. Now. I'm getting him back."

* * *

"What do you mean,  _Robin_  tol-?"  
"So, how's Vlad?" Bertrand frowned at Erin's interruption, dropping obediently into the seat opposite her.  
"He's fine." He hesitated. "Well, no, he misses you. He doesn't know where you are, or if you're even alive, and it bothers him. Especially with Robin and I getting engaged, I think."  
"Congratulations, I suppose."  
"You suppose?" He frowned. "You're not going to lecture me about how he'd be  _better dead than undead_ , like Jonno?"  
"No! No. And if Jonno said that to you, I'll punch him."  
"Robin already did," he admitted with a rueful smile, and she laughed.  
"Of course. Good for him. No, I just... I thought agreeing to bite him, and him agreeing to be bitten... I thought that was it, I thought you didn't need to get engaged." She shrugged. "And maybe I'm just the tiniest bit jealous."  
"Jealous?" He raised an eyebrow. "Of me, or Robin?"  
"Calm down, I'm not trying to steal your boyfriend." She sighed. "It's just... you guys are getting your happy ending, that's all. It's hard not to wish I could have that too."

Bertrand paused thoughtfully.  
"Well, you cou-"  
"I'm not being bitten. I know Robin wants to, and that's fine, but I just... I can't. I  _won't_. Not even for Vlad." She sighed again. "He's OK, though?"  
"He sent me to look for you. He wondered the same thing, about you."  
"Me? I'm fine, I'm just... looking for somewhere to start over, I suppose." She hesitated. "Do you think... would it ruin things for him if I came to visit? Just to talk things over? It'd be good to see him again. And Robin." The vampire considered it for a moment.  
"Perhaps you could. Speaking of Robin, what do you mean, he told you I was away?"  
"On the phone. I've called him a few times since I left, I just... I didn't want to talk to anyone else."

It took a moment for the full implications of that statement to occur to him.  
"That was you?" Before she could respond, he was scrambling to pull a buzzing phone out of his pocket, lifting it to his ear in a panic. There was no reason for that phone to ring, unless there was a dire emergency back at home. "Vlad? Is it Robin? What's happened?"

* * *

"Bertrand, you're alright." Robin couldn't quite keep the relief from his voice. "Look, your mission-"  
" _What's happened to Vlad? How do you have this number?_ "  
"I took his phone off him. He's fine. You can talk to him if you-"  
" _No. Blood, no. I've missed you._ " He heard Bertrand clear his throat awkwardly at the other end of the line. " _What's going on? I'm just... at a crucial stage of-"  
"_I know how Erin is, I literally just spoke to her- _"_  There was a pause, a slight scuffling sound, and then a new voice spoke.  
" _Great, thanks, Robin. Way to keep a secret."_  
"Erin? What are you doing with-?" But then Vlad had the phone, and Robin braced himself for something raw and emotional.

"Erin."  
" _Vlad?_ " Even Robin could hear that. The Chosen One nodded, apparently forgetting that he couldn't be seen.  
"How are you?" He paused, listening. "Yes, well, if I'd known you were talking to him I wouldn't have had to." There was an uneasy silence, and Robin had the distinct feeling that it wasn't just at their end of the call. Then Vlad spoke again. "Do... could we talk? Properly, I mean, face to face?" Another pause. "Well, yeah, you'd have to; Bertrand doesn't drive, you know that." A tiny, pained smile came to his lips. "I know. Almost anything." He waited a little longer for a reply then, and finally... "Alright, I'll hand you over."

He took the phone curiously.

* * *

"Vlad?" Bertrand jumped; this couldn't be good. "I'm fine. Flattered that you'd send Bertrand after me. Not impressed that you pulled him away from Robin right now." Erin fell silent for a long time, then, apparently deep in thought. Bertrand was about to poke her to make sure she hadn't fallen asleep when she spoke again. "...Would that mean flying?" And then, with a soft smile, "The things I do for you..." She trailed off, looking horrified by her own words.

After a moment, she turned to Bertrand, covering the receiver with her hand.  
"Could I stay in your guest room for a day or two, if... just as a last resort?" He nodded.  
"Check with Robin to make sure the roof's still on, but I don't see why not." She beamed gratefully at him and turned back to the phone in her hand.  
"Yeah, if I can check something with Robin." There was a brief pause, and then, "Mind if I crash at yours, if I need to be away from Vlad? Great, he said you wouldn't mind."

The slightest of hesitations, and she held the phone out.  
"He wants to talk to you." He almost snatched it out of her hands, but in the end, the phone wasn't necessary any more. He only had one thing to say.  
"Robin, I'm coming home."


	44. Chapter 44

"Bertrand, come i-  _Erin_?" The former slayer shrugged sheepishly as Iliescu, hand still on the door handle, stared in shock.  
"Hi, Iliescu. How've you been?" He blinked.  
"I... Quite well, thank you... is he expecting you?"  
"He's expecting us both," Bertrand assured him, "although I'm surprised he didn't tell you that himself."  
"Well, you did fly at about the speed of light, he might not have had time," Erin grumbled.  
"That's not true, we stopped briefly-"  
"-because I threatened to throw up on your cape, yeah, thanks. I hate flying." Bertrand shrugged, and Iliescu stood aside to allow them entrance.  
"The usual night-time security checks, I'm afraid, and then I'll show you through."

* * *

When Iliescu ushered Bertrand and Erin into the library, Robin barely noticed the girl. Oh, yes, he'd missed her, and talking on the phone wasn't quite the same, but the moment his eyes locked with Bertrand's it was as if the rest of the world ceased to exist. It seemed that the vampire was experiencing the same thing, though, as he took three paces towards Robin... then stopped dead, the slightest gesture of his hand stopping Robin in his tracks too. He followed Bertrand's eyes towards Iliescu, and realised Bertrand wasn't comfortable reuniting in such a public setting. He stood, though every fibre of his being was screaming at him to throw himself at his long-lost lover, and forced himself to stay still as the collective attention of the room gradually focused itself on the Grand High Vampire and his ex-girlfriend... who, apparently, had no such compunctions.

For a moment, as Robin glanced across, it was hard to tell where the vampire ended and the breather began, Erin wrapped tightly in his arms as she clung to him, kissing him back. His eyes slid back to Bertrand, but he could hardly escape hearing the snatched conversation Vlad and Erin were trying to have between kisses.

"This doesn't mean-"  
"I know."  
"I can't-"  
"I know."  
"We have to talk-"  
"Later."  
"But just once-"  
"Yes. Fog, yes." And with that, Vlad nodded a dismissal to Iliescu, smiled apologetically at the parted lovers, and whisked his ex-girlfriend off to his chambers. Iliescu made his way back to his own coffin, so that only Bertrand and Robin still stood on opposite sides of the library, alone together at last.

* * *

The moment they were alone, Bertrand had intended to throw himself at Robin, but the boy seemed more interested in rooting in his pocket. For a moment, he held himself back, uncertain, but then it all became too much. Before he knew he was moving, Robin was trapped between his body and a bookcase, sighing contentedly against Bertrand's lips.  
"Missed you..." he managed, pulling away for just long enough to get the words out and see the beginning of Robin's smile.  
"Mm." For a moment, that was all the breather could manage, until at last he pulled away. "Didn't miss you at all."

That hurt, even if Robin smiled as he said it, and it must have shown on his face because Robin's fell too.  
"Oh, love, don't be daft. I missed you unbearably. I wanted you to come home so I could do  _this_ -" he kissed him gently, chastely on the lips, "and  _this_ -" Bertrand could feel warm lips trailing soft kisses down his neck, and then Robin's hands gripped at his hips to pull him closer against him, "and  _that_."  
"Mm," he murmured by way of reply. "Only love me for my body." He jumped, surprised to feel the slightest graze of teeth at his neck, but he didn't move away as Robin scolded him fondly.  
"Love you for  _everything_." Then he was rummaging in his pocket again, before placing something cold and metallic in Bertrand's palm and closing his fingers around it. "Bite me."

He stepped back, suddenly struggling to hold back his fangs, and stumbled over his words as he glanced down to see what he'd been given.  
"Not ton... not... not now... this..." He trailed off, inspecting the pewter band carefully. "Waves... you remembered..."

_Bertrand had been eight years old when he made his third escape attempt. By now, he knew better than to think he could just run away from home and never come back – they always brought him back – but he wanted to get out of his lessons for just one day, a day in which he could do_ whatever he wanted  _instead of training and studying and practicing and learning._

_He knew where he was going; he'd seen some boys about his age heading off in a westerly direction not two hours ago, and now he set off after them, hoping to catch up. He wasn't well known in the village, except perhaps as 'that weird kid who never plays', but that wasn't his fault. Maybe today would change that._

_When he arrived at the beach, though, all thought of other children was forgotten. This, then, was the sea. He almost resented it for preventing his onward travel, but from where he was standing it seemed to go on forever and Bertrand couldn't imagine there being anywhere to travel to beyond it. Instead, he approached the edge, feeling the sand between his bare toes, and timidly dipped a foot into the cool water. He flinched – it was colder than he'd expected, given the warmth of the sun on his back – but waded carefully in._

_He'd been taught to swim, of course, but this seemed entirely different from the pond at the back of the house – it had its own rhythm, its own movement, almost as if it had its own spirit. Bertrand just hoped it wouldn't carry him off completely as he took a cautious swim a little way out._

_No, the tide was pulling him sideways, and he didn't want to have to walk for days to get home to his inevitable beating. He swam back to shore, coming out of the sea just along the beach, coincidentally near to where the boys from his village were playing, building forts in the sand. They looked up as he approached, and then one of them recognised him._  
"Aren't you the weird Italian kid?" he asked in their native French.  
"I'm French," Bertrand corrected him mildly, "and my name is Bertrand du Fortunesa." He waited to be shouted at, scorned, mocked for daring to contradict his betters – but no reprimand came.

_When the parents of the village came out in force to save their children from the encroaching darkness and the incoming tide, Bertrand and his new friends were still happily playing in the waves, trying to build a sand fort big enough to stop the sea itself. Their failure wasn't even punished; the villagers scoffed fondly at their antics and dropped 'the little Italian boy' at his home on their way._

_It had been worth the punishment, Bertrand told Robin, centuries later. He had loved every second._

* * *

Bertrand was turning the ring in his hands, smiling distantly, and Robin was glad to see that it had indeed brought up the desired happy memories. He kept his touch slow and gentle as he brought his hands to cover the vampire's, delicately relieving him of the ring and slipping it onto the appropriate finger, reaching across to entwine their left hands. It was a slightly awkward gesture, but the way his fiance's eyes fixed upon the two pewter rings glinting in the candlelight of Vlad's library assured him that Bertrand appreciated it.

"I'm  _yours_ ," Bertrand whispered breathlessly, still staring down at their linked hands as if he couldn't quite believe it. "I'm really yours."  
"Is that OK?" Robin was only half-joking, but the way Bertrand attacked his lips soon pushed aside any lingering insecurities.  
"Yes.  _Yes_. I love you. I... no matter what happens, I'll always love you, Bran." Robin knew he was practically purring as Bertrand's hands ran over his shoulders and down his back, but he didn't have it in him to care.  
"This had better not be leading up to another if-you-want-to-back-out speech." He nipped at his lover's lip, teasing. "For one thing, I don't; I love you too much to grow old and let you have all the fun without me." Another nip, this time at his earlobe. "For another... I have better things to do than have this conversation again."

Bertrand raised an eyebrow.  
"Really? What would you rather do?" Robin treated him to a truly wicked smirk and leant into his lover's chest, letting him support his weight as he ran his lips along the edge of the cape Bertrand was still wearing.  
"Well... I'm quite cross with Vlad for sending you away to do something that didn't need doing." He stood upright so Bertrand could definitely see the unmistakeable glimmer in his eye. "And I seem to remember he was quite keen that we shouldn't get up to any funny business in his library." Bertrand's eyes were wide and dark now, watching him, and Robin could see his fangs just barely protruding from his top lip. "So what do you reckon?"  
"Mm." The vampire was only pretending to think about it, Robin could tell. "I think we should thoroughly abuse the hospitality of his library, and then pretend we didn't."  
" _You_  can pretend." He teased, lips now perilously close to Bertrand's ear again. "I have every intention of looking exactly as shagged-out as I feel tomorrow morning."  
"Well then," Bertrand practically growled, "I'd better-"

But Robin had had enough of talking, and stopped his mouth with a kiss.


	45. Chapter 45

" _Fog_ , Bertrand, what's gotten into you tonight?" Robin was gasping desperately for breath as Bertrand pinned his wrists against a bookcase and trailed teeth and tongue over his newly-exposed chest.  
"I missed you," he murmured. "Bran, if you- if you want-" But Robin was too busy moaning as his lover caressed his back to hear the rest of his words. He realised, as Bertrand's touch faltered, that he must have missed something important.  
"Sorry, B." He kissed his cheek by way of further apology. "Say again?"  
"I... when I was away... I bought some... in my bag... there's... if you want..." Now that his wrists were free, Robin was making short work of the buttons of the vampire's shirt, fingers working deftly beneath the cape, but he paused halfway down to let Bertrand finish his sentence. "If you want to try it, we... you can." It took a few moments for that to make any sense at all in his head, but then he had to stifle a moan.

"Blood," he managed at last, "oh, blood." Bertrand shivered against him and he frowned. "Bit drastic, though, B."  
"I can take it, I... it's not like it's brand new-"  
"Exactly." Lust aside, Robin was worried that his lover was going to push himself too far again. "B, I've missed you too, but..." He ran his hand very gently around to touch Bertrand's backside, and the vampire flinched. "...You see what I mean? I know you want to just decide you're better, but it doesn't work like that."  
"Why doesn't it work like that?" For a moment Bertrand seemed close to tears, but then he pulled himself together. "I'm sorry. I just... I just wanted us to be able to... I wanted to show you how much I love you." Robin shushed him gently, peppering kisses over his shoulders and reaching down for his trousers.  
"I know how much you love me, B." But the vampire was dropping to his knees, and pretty soon Robin was completely incapable of doing anything but stroking his lover's cheek and crying out.

When he opened his eyes, Bertrand was still kneeling at his feet, looking up at him as he clung to the shelves for support. He looked deliciously ravished, and Robin found himself dropping to his own knees, grabbing his lover and rolling so that he was lying beneath him, unfastening his trousers at last and reaching in to coax a hundred different desperate wanting sounds from Bertrand's lips. The vampire was barely holding himself up by the time he finally groaned his release.  
"Love you too," Robin murmured, and pulled him down to lie beside him.

* * *

Half an hour later, they were walking through the grounds towards their little home. Since it was the middle of the night, they were wandering across open lawns, hands entwined, looking up at the stars. Bertrand pulled Robin closer – the boy had had to take his shirt off, Bertrand had ruined it in Vlad's library – to make sure his cape was wrapped right around him, protecting him from the worst of the chill. Of course, to make things fair, Robin had insisted that he take his own shirt off as well, and Bertrand had thought he might wear it. After all, Bertrand didn't really feel the cold; his lover's need was greater. But Robin had just smirked at him and tucked it into Bertrand's travelling bag before pulling him outside.

"B," the boy began, now. "do you think you're ready?" He frowned; he'd thought that had become horribly clear back in the library – but Robin was shaking his head. "Not... I meant are you ready to bite me? Because I did a lot of thinking when you were away, and I think... I think maybe we should do it soon. If you want."  
"Am  _I_  ready?" He frowned; he hadn't really thought about it. "Well... I want to sort out a couple of things, but... as long as Vlad's there to make sure I don't ruin things... Yes. I want you mine." Robin kissed him, obviously pleased, and then they walked for several minutes in silence.

"You know, it sort of makes sense," Robin said, as if continuing a conversation they'd been having all along. "Definitely makes sense, if you think about it." They turned in under the porch and Bertrand spent the time it took Robin to find his key and unlock the door trying to work out what that imaginary conversation might have been about, but it was useless. He let Robin pull him over the threshold and into his arms before giving up.  
"What does?" The door closed behind them, Robin seemed a little less reluctant to explain himself.  
"You not being ready. It's understandable. It's kind of a big deal, B."  
" _You_  seem alright with it – the other night, before I left-"  
"I've never had a bad experience like you did, love." Robin was stroking his neck with his thumb, and it was oddly reassuring. "Nobody's ever touched me any way I didn't like, because the only guy I've ever been with is this incredible, sensitive,  _sexy_  man who just happens to also be you."  
"I-"  
"Which is why I trust you. And if you bought supplies on your trip, you must have been thinking about it. So if you want to take that step, now, then I think that's OK."

Bertrand felt his whole body tense; he couldn't do this. He wanted to, of course he did, but he  _couldn't_. Robin had been right earlier, he was terrified of even being touched from behind – he'd been wary when Robin had given him a  _massage_  last week – and there was no way he could just squash that fear down and get on with it, no matter how pathetic that was.  
"I can't-"  
"Just... with one difference, B. Like I said, you're the only one who's touched me, and I trust you." He blinked; what was his dear breather driving at?  
"Bran-"  
"I promise you won't break me." And then it hit him, what Robin was truly offering him.  _Blood_ , it was enough to make his head spin for a moment; the absolute trust in his lover's eyes, the power he had over him...  
"You-?"  
"If you don't want to, tell me, it was just an i-" Robin was abruptly cut off as Bertrand pinned him against the wall and kissed him.  
"Are you sure-?"  
"Yes. Fog, yes, Bertrand. Please."

Ten minutes later, they were in their coffin, and Robin's hands were wandering over his bare chest as he tried to open a bottle with trembling fingers. Fingers which, when he finally suceeded, began delicately probing, stroking and soothing as Robin tensed and relaxed and moaned.  
"Are you alr-?"  
"Please, oh, blood, Bertrand... more..." He obediently kept going, eyes fixed firmly on Robin's face, searching for any sign of discomfort. The breather caught at his arm, though, each time he noticed one and tried to pull away. "It's alright, I'm alright. I want you to."

At last, after what seemed like forever, the tone of Robin's noises changed.  
"Oh-  _oh_ , B, please..." He was torn; part of him was terrified of hurting Robin, of scarring him the way he himself had been scarred... but most of him wanted to make him moan, make him cling to him and beg him not to stop. He wanted them to be together, but he couldn't risk breaking his breather in the process. He pulled back, earning an involuntary whimper of complaint from Robin, and reached into his bag.

* * *

Robin couldn't decide if he felt bereft at the feeling of Bertrand's fingers leaving him, or excited by the thought of what would soon take their place. He'd just about settled on a kind of nervous anticipation when Bertrand reached into his bag and all those emotions were briefly overwhelmed by a blood-chilling terror.  
"B-?" But Bertrand wasn't turning the stake on himself, and there was no way he'd ever try to hurt Robin with one, and Robin felt a little of the sudden tension leave him as the weapon was pressed into his hand. It wasn't Bertrand's trusty old stake, the one he kept in a drawer on the other side of the room; it was a simple slayer's weapon, and he doubted it had ever even been used before. He took it, waiting impatiently for an explanation.  
"If I hurt you, or... if it seems like I'm going to bite... I want you to use it. Promise me, Robin." He shook his head.  
"I can't promise that. I  _won't_."  
"Bran, just... just... you can't let me break you." Robin reached up, dropping the stake down next to him, and pulled him into a kiss.  
"I won't. Idiot." Bertrand nodded, looking slightly reassured, and gestured for him to pick up the weapon again. "No, I don't want to stake you by accident. I can reach it, I promise."

Bertrand regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded again.  
"Ready, then?"  
"Yes.  _Yes_."  
"I love you," his vampire whispered, and carefully began pushing himself inside him.

Robin saw stars; everything was suddenly a thousand times more intense, every sensation amplified, and his hands came to grip at Bertrand's hips, guiding his slow progress until he was completely filled. He blinked until his lover came into focus, peering anxiously down at him, and smiled.  
"Oh, blood, I'm glad we're doing this." It was a struggle to get the words out, but he had a feeling he was going to have to keep an eye on Bertrand over the next few minutes, to keep reassuring him. "Are you alright?" A nod. "Can you... keep going?" Bertrand made a little moany noise and began to move.

Time lost all meaning, and it felt like years and yet only seconds - Bertrand's hand reaching for him, his own clutching at Bertrand's arms, desperate keening noises and a steady stream of murmured endearments and pleas and assurances that he was  _better than alright oh blood just don't stop_  – before he was on the edge of ecstacy, Bertrand's movements triggering something incredible inside him.  
"B, I'm – oh – oh blood-!" Bertrand made a noise of mingled terror and joy and Robin felt himself letting go, spilling over the edge and crying out his fiance's name.

Of course, in the seconds after that, as he gasped for breath, Bertrand's fangs suddenly plummeted towards his throat and instinct took over.  
" _I want you to use it. Promise me, Robin."_  And he did.

* * *

Bertrand couldn't quite believe the picture Robin made, lying beneath him, legs folded awkwardly out of the way as Bertrand... he couldn't dwell on that, or it would all be over too soon. Maybe Robin wanted it to be over? He searched his breather's eyes for doubts, but they were fluttering shut and judging by the way he was talking, begging him not to stop, telling him he loved him and needed him and assuring him that he wasn't hurting him... Robin was alright. Robin was  _enjoying_  this. And maybe... maybe Bertrand was getting something right.

"B, I'm – oh – oh blood-!" He couldn't choke back the uncertain crowing noise that escaped him – fog, he hoped that was the good kind of  _oh blood_ , but his brain was too fried to tell – and then Robin was coming, Bertrand's name spilling from his lips, and instinct was telling him to muffle his own cry against Robin's neck, to pierce tender flesh with sharp-

The stake snapped up, suddenly securely gripped in Robin's hand, and Bertrand just barely had time to thank any higher power that might be paying attention for making his idiot  _listen_. Then there were no more thoughts, just a bittersweet euphoria and the jarring of something solid against his teeth as his hips jerked one last glorious time against Robin's.

He opened his eyes, suddenly horrified, only to find Robin staring back up at him, stake held horizontally between his hands, Bertrand's jaw clamped around it. They stayed there, frozen, for several long seconds before Robin burst out laughing.  
"Fog, I love you." He let go of the stake, allowing Bertrand to remove it from his mouth and drop it over the side of the coffin before slowly shuffling backwards until he could slump beside his lover. "And that was incredible. I mean... it was OK, right?" The slightly dreamy smile didn't even leave his face, and Bertrand was sure he looked just as ridiculously blissed-out.  
"It was wonderful, Bran. Oh, blood, you're... you're just wonderful."  
"Mm. Good, does that mean you're gonna keep me forever...?" Robin trailed off, throwing an arm over Bertrand's hip, hand trailing across his back as he mumbled something incoherent and fell asleep.

Bertrand just gazed at him in wonder for a few moments, brushing a stray hair gently away from his lover's eye. How Robin could still surprise him after all these years he'd never know, but he always did, and Bertrand could hardly believe that something so precious could truly be his.  
"Forever." He closed his eyes and drifted off, safe in Robin's arms.


	46. Chapter 46

"Bran? Are you alright?" The breather groaned.  
"Bertrand, if you wake me up again so help me I will find that stake." He recoiled, wounded, but Robin's arm reached out, groping at the air until he found his lover's shoulder and pulled him back into his embrace. "Didn't mean it," he mumbled, "'m just tired. And I'm  _fine_."  
"Are you sure? You're not having nightmares, or-?"  
"You keep waking me up, when would I have time to have nightmares?" Robin shifted slightly and winced, drawing in a sharp hiss of breath.  
"I've hur-" He stopped abruptly as Robin nipped at his neck, a particularly vampiric admonishment.  
"I've just pulled a muscle or something. Now stop fussing and go to sleep, or I'll eat your neck and your head'll have to float." He took advantage of Bertrand's total bewilderment at this bizarre, sleepy proclamation and was snoring gently before the vampire could even work out how to react.

He woke the next morning with Robin wrapped around him, covering his face with kisses.  
"Mmmmm," was all he could manage for a moment, and then, "what's this in aid of?"  
"Checking your face still tastes good." He raised an eyebrow, catching his breather's chin in one hand to hold him still for a proper kiss, and then waited for a better answer. "...'Cos I love you?"  
"You don't sound sure," Bertrand teased, feeling lighter than he had in a long time, "should I be worried you've gone off me?"  
"Not in a million years."

They cuddled up together, content, and then Robin spoke again.  
"How long do you need to sort out this mysterious  _stuff_?" Bertrand thought for a moment.  
"Before the bite?" His lover nodded. "A few days, perhaps. Maybe less. Why?"  
"I meant what I said last night. I don't want to wait any more. I just..." He took a deep breath. "I don't want Vlad to send you away again without this being sorted." Bertrand nodded, thinking for a moment.  
"How about I try to get some of the things I need to do sorted out today, and in the meantime you can check Vlad's free to supervise some time soon?" It was Robin's turn to nod, and then he began hauling himself out of the coffin, stiffer than usual. Bertrand was behind him in seconds, helping him up, keeping his arms around his breather's waist longer than strictly necessary. "You're sure you're alright?" Robin nodded firmly, and began to get dressed. Bertrand watched him for a moment, then pulled on a pair of trousers and slipped downstairs to make a phonecall.

* * *

"No, just me," Robin heard as he reached the bottom of the stairs, "I'll get a driver to bring me round, just don't leave me on the doorstep too long and everything should be fine. Alright, I'll see you in an hour or so. Bye." Bertrand hung up and turned to see him standing there. "Off to Vlad's already?" He nodded.  
"Thought I could catch up with Erin, too, if you're gonna be busy." The vampire smiled.  
"Alright, have fun. Don't get in the middle of any fights. Love you." Then he kissed him goodbye and disappeared upstairs to get dressed himself.

As soon as he was out of sight of the front door, Robin darted between two of the trees that formed the walls of the avenue and paused in the sunlight to rub at his legs, trying to get the ache out of them. He didn't want Bertrand to know, but last night's exertions had left him a little sore. It wasn't a problem – he'd been expecting it, to be honest – but he knew Bertrand would go insane with guilt if he realised Robin was suffering even the slightest discomfort.

By the time he reached the main house, the worst of the stiffness had gone. It was Iliescu who opened the door, looking thoroughly hacked off. Robin grimaced apologetically at him.  
"Mate, you've been here for like three days. What's going on?"  
"My relief's somewhat conspicuous by his absence. It's Bellamy, so no doubt he'll have a perfectly  _plausible_  excuse when he does turn up. If you're looking for his grandness, you'll have to wait."  
"Still asleep?" Iliescu hesitated before answering, and Robin's eyes widened. "Or would it be better to ask if he was still in his coffin?"  
"That would be easier for me to answer diplomatically, yes. His grandness has not yet emerged from his chambers." Somehow, Robin got the impression that no actual sleeping had occurred.  
"Alright, well, I'll be out enjoying the sunshine, I'll stay in earshot. Could you get him to give me a shout when he's up?" Iliescu rolled his eyes and nodded.  
"Don't hold your breath, though. Enjoy the sunlight."

* * *

Bertrand was relieved to see a curtain twitch as he pulled up outside the house; the door was already open by the time he'd raced across to it, glad of his standing invitation as he threw himself unceremoniously past Mrs Branagh and into the shade, patting out the small smouldering patches of his sleeves.  
"Sorry. It's brighter out there than I'd imagined." Satisfied that he was no longer on fire, he held out a hand and was surprised to be pulled into a hug as usual. "You... do remember last time I visited, Mrs Branagh?"  
"Of course I do. But we've had a chat with Robin, and he's very fond of you... you've always been a vampire, haven't you? From the day we met you." He nodded awkwardly.  
"And a bit before that, yes."  
"Well, then, you haven't changed. You're still our Bertrand. Come on, Graham's in the living room."

Bertrand was well aware that his boyfriend's father was in the living room, and that was part of the reason he'd lingered in the hall. Mrs Branagh had a tendency to forgive everything; Mr Branagh was less tolerant. Still, he shuffled obediently into the lounge and waited for some kind of reaction. There was a moment's silence, then Graham hauled himself to his feet and nodded curtly.  
"Bertrand. Good to see you, son." That seemed as good a place to start as any.

"Actually, your son's the reason I'm here. Well. Obviously. I mean..." Graham gestured for him to take a seat, and Elizabeth settled next to her husband as he resumed his place on the sofa.  
"Spit it out then, don't worry, we don't bite-"  
"Graham!"  
"Wha-? Oh." For a moment, there was a very awkward pause as Graham looked guilty and Bertrand tried to work out why. "He knows I don't mean to offend him, don't you, Bertrand?"

Suddenly it all made sense, and Bertrand couldn't supress a sharp bark of laughter.  
"Not offended in the slightest, Mr Branagh." The couple exchanged exasperated looks, and then Elizabeth turned back to Bertrand.  
"Go on, love. What did you want to talk about?"


	47. Chapter 47

It was Erin, in the end, who came out to get him.  
"Robin Branagh, getting a tan. Who'd have thought it?" He groaned.  
"Getting sunburnt, more like. But I thought I should try it out the breather way at least once before I lose my chance." He sat up, groaning slightly at the strain it put on his muscles. "So, good talk with Vlad?" She dropped into the grass beside him.  
"Not a lot of talking, honestly." She shrugged sheepishly. "Not much to say. We both know it's over, it's just... hard to let go."

He plucked at a blade of grass absentmindedly.  
"Did it help?" She blushed, but after a moment a little smile appeared on her face.  
"Yeah. Yeah, I think it did. It was different, but... we didn't really say a proper goodbye, before. Now it feels like at least it ended on a good note." She stretched, then stood and held out a hand to help Robin up. "Come on, I was only supposed to be telling you Vlad was up."  
"About time." He took her hand, feeling his back twinge as he stood upright.  
"I see  _you_  had a good night last night," Erin teased, noticing the way he winced, but she frowned as Robin turned considerably redder than expected. "Whoa, OK, didn't think you'd be  _that_  embarrassed..."  
"Shut up, let's just go and find Vlad."

* * *

"If you've spoken to Robin... presumably you know we're engaged, now." Bertrand held up his hand to show them the ring and Mrs Branagh nodded approvingly. "I came to ask for your blessing – I know I should have done it before, but-"  
"Of course you've got our blessing." This was Graham, looking puzzled. "Didn't Robin tell you it was alright by us?"  
"I've been away-"  
"Leave him be, Graham, he's traditional is all. I expect he wanted to ask for himself." Mr Branagh grumbled a little to himself, but Bertrand was racing ahead, unable to contain his news.  
"There's something else, something I can't tell Robin about yet, but... I thought you should know."

He explained, as briefly and clearly as he could, the criteria for being recognised as a Clan and Vlad's offer.  
"I hadn't thought about it; I wasn't expecting him to ask. But... if I accept, Robin would become part of the du Fortunesa clan. I thought you should know that that might be something that would happen."  
"Well, if Robin wants to take your name, we don't mind, do we, love?" Mrs Branagh shook her head in agreement, but they didn't understand.  
"It's more than the name. Being part of a clan, especially being in charge of one, comes with... there are certain rights and responsibilities attached. We'd share a seat on the High Council, for example, and be expected to carry out our duties accordingly. That doesn't change very much in practice. But it also means we'd have legal status equivalent to that of full vampires."

The Branaghs blinked, and Bertrand realised they hadn't previously been aware that there  _was_  any discrimination against half-fangs in vampire law. In fact, he wasn't sure they'd been aware that he and Vlad had come by their fangs in different ways at all.  
"You're not a full vampire?" Graham shot his wife an incredulous look as the odd sentence hung in the air for a moment, and then Bertrand sighed.

"Vlad's what we call a full vampire – he was born a vampire, to vampire parents. When he turned sixteen, he got his powers and his UV allergy, as Robin calls it. I was born human, and a vampire took me from a dark street at midnight. Vampires like me, who were bitten, we're known as half-fangs unless we become senior members of a clan. But Robin and I, if Vlad really does award me Clan Leader status, we'll be legally full vampires."  
"And what does that change? What kind of things can't...  _half-fangs_... do?"  
"If we become part of a clan, we can do far more things in a strict legal sense. Contracts, for example, become a lot simpler to form. We'd be attached to a Blood Mirror, though that's mostly to do with coming of age and we're both adults. And as a Clan Leader and his intended, we can... well, we could have a blood-binding, which is the most formal type of vampire marriage, I suppose."

The Branaghs sat for a minute, digesting this information.  
"That sounds a bit ominous, a blood-binding... what would that involve?" Mrs Branagh's tone was breezy but he could hear the concern underneath it.  
"Just an exchange of bites. It's nothing sinister, I assure you. And of course Robin would have to agree to it, or it wouldn't happen."  
"Then why did you say you can't tell him about this...  _offer_  of Vlad's? What's the catch?" He sighed; Graham really didn't trust him... but he couldn't really blame him.  
"If Robin knows, he'll realise that the whole clan thing is only possible  _if_  he's bitten. The law requires at least one half-fang, after all. I don't want to put that sort of pressure on him. Mr Branagh – Mrs Branagh – I love your son. I love him more than I could ever have imagined loving anyone. And if he doesn't really want this, if there's even the slighest doubt in his mind and he tells me to stop at the very last moment, I'll respect that. I don't want to push him into this. I won't. And that's why I can't tell him that I don't want to exchange vows informally, like we always thought we would. I want to be bound to him forever, if he wants that, but..." He realised he was rambling and stopped.

His fiance's parents stared at him for a moment, and then Graham sighed.  
"Look, I've tried to be nice about this... but how many times have we told you to call us by our names?"  
"I... sorry, Mr- Graham-"  
"He's right, love, you're going to be our son-in-law soon. No more of this Mr and Mrs stuff. We're family."  
"Even if he says no?" If he'd had breath to hold, Bertrand would have been holding it. But Elizabeth was smiling fondly at him, and Graham was laughing.  
"You two are perfect for each other, you're both as clueless – look at your left hand, Bertrand. Do you really think he's going to say no?"

* * *

"Hey, Robin. What's up?" Sometimes, for the ruler of the vampires, Vlad could seem really  _ordinary._  
"Are you busy this week?" Vlad frowned.  
"I'm always pretty busy. Vampires to lead, races to rule..." If he thought Robin wouldn't catch the little glance he flicked across at Erin to see if she was impressed, he was sorely mistaken.  
"Vlad, seriously. I want to know if you've got time to supervise the execution of a certain Bite License."

They didn't have to seem  _quite_  so surprised, he thought; they'd known this was coming. It seemed they just hadn't expected him to ask in such a hurry.  
"You're... yeah. Yeah, I'll... I mean, I'll make time. Congratulations, mate." He held out his hand for an awkward fist-bump Robin barely remembered to return as he glanced at Erin, hoping she didn't think he was some kind of lunatic. As it turned out, it was worse than that; she looked like she was struggling to keep it together.  
"I'm... really happy for you two. Do you want me there to back you up?" Robin narrowed his eyes at her thoughtfully.  
"If you want to come, and it's alright with Vlad and Bertrand..." Vlad shrugged.  
"If he gets thirsty I'm planning to pin him to the ceiling anyway, it's not like it'd be harder to protect you as well." Erin nodded and left the room in a hurry.

The two boys regarded each other with a grimace.  
"I didn't mean to upset her," Robin began, but Vlad shook his head.  
"It's not your fault. If anything, it's mine. Stupid vampirism." He straightened up, thinking for a moment. "How's... Tuesday? In the afternoon?" Robin ran his mind back over his conversation with Bertrand; today was Saturday, and Bertrand had almost certainly been being cautious when he had said he needed a few days.  
"Sounds perfect. I'll let you know if Bertrand's got other ideas, but otherwise..." He took a deep breath and let it out with a grin. "I'll be a vampire by Wednesday."

* * *

Bertrand was lying in their coffin, cuddled up to the vampire teddies, when he heard Robin come home. He briefly considered hiding the bears, but there didn't seem much point in hiding his softer side from his lover; that bat had flown a long time ago. Robin didn't even comment, just kicked his shoes off and climbed in with him.  
"Doing anything Tue- you've been crying." He'd hoped Robin wouldn't notice, but he didn't have the benefit of a mirror or any kind of experience of trying to hide tearstains. So he just nodded.  
"I went to see your parents."  
"What did they do?" Robin was indignant, and Bertrand realised he'd leapt to the wrong conclusion about what had happened. "I know my Dad's a bit gruff sometimes, but-"  
"They said I was family." And then the teddies were forgotten as he threw himself at Robin, burying his head against his shoulder and breaking out into fresh tears. "I've never had a family, Bran." He didn't know quite how to explain it, but he was so happy and overwhelmed and he didn't know what you were supposed to  _do_  with a family once you had it... Robin seemed to understand.  
"Oh,  _Bertrand_. You've had a family for at least five years." That just made him sob harder, but Robin was holding him, stroking his hair and soothing him, and it didn't feel as awful as crying, in his limited experience, usually did.

Once he'd got himself under control, he sat up, remembering something.  
"You were asking me something, earlier?" Robin frowned for a second, then grinned, sitting up to take Bertrand's face between his hands.  
"What are you doing on Tuesday afternoon?" He thought about it.  
"Nothing planned, as far as I know. Why?" Robin kissed him.  
"Wrong. You're turning me into a vampire." He felt his eyes widen, and Robin's face fell. "Is that OK?"  
"No. No, it's brilliant. Oh blood, this is really happening?" He forced himself to tone down his excitement a little. "You should call your parents and let them know. And I told them we'd have an exchange of vows they could come to, some time after the bite. And is there anything you're worried about? We can talk about it, or you can still decide not to, that's OK-"  
"B? Shh. I'll ring round the family later. Oh – and is it alright if Erin comes as a witness kind of thing? Vlad says it's fine-"  
"Yeah, that's- it doesn't matter who else is there, Bran. Just you and me." He wasn't sure who actually kissed who, then, but it was a few minutes before either of them spoke again.

Robin was lying in his arms, securely wrapped against his chest, when he ventured the question.  
"How long do you think I'll be unconscious for?" He pressed a kiss to his forehead.  
"A few hours, probably. Don't worry, I'll be right here to make sure you're alright." Robin nodded, and he hesitated before continuing. "Did Vlad say where he wanted us to-?"  
"Throne room. He says it's the safest place for everyone if... if he does have to stop you."  
"He means there's nothing sharp and wooden on the walls, then."  
"Well... yeah." To his own surprise, Bertrand wasn't so worried about it any more.  
"You know you'll wake up back here?" Robin nodded.  
"Will... will it feel like dying?" Bertrand shifted slightly so he could press a kiss to his lover's cheek.  
"It'll be the closest you'll ever get. But it's not too bad. And I promise you'll wake up."  
"And you'll be here with me." He nodded. Robin took a very deep breath and let it out in a rush. "Alright. Let's do this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're skipping steamy chapters, I strongly advise that you don't skip the next chapter. It's important!


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An important chapter. It's intimate, rather than steamy, so if you've been skipping the steamy ones this is one not to skip.

The guards had been sent out of the throne room. Erin was standing nervously near Vlad's throne, almost as if she wasn't sure if she wanted to be there. She'd spent the last few days out in the sunlight with Robin as much as possible, although she was still spending nights at the main house.

Bertrand had been clingy since his return, but last night it seemed he'd decided not to sleep at all. Robin had woken a couple of times to hear him pottering about downstairs, and even when he'd called down to him to keep him company on his last night as a breather, he'd held him until he fell asleep and Robin had woken up alone again. He'd kissed him goodbye as he set out for the ceremony – he was going the sunlit way at noon, one more time – and then disappeared straight back into their small cellar. The cellar was entirely Bertrand's preserve – Robin had the cupboard under the stairs, stacked with video games, a TV, and comfy chairs – but neither of them usually  _used_  their private rooms, certainly not for so long at a time.

Now Robin and Vlad stood at the centre of the throne room, waiting for Bertrand to arrive.

He was already ten minutes late.

* * *

Bertrand had been up all night, trying to prepare for what he was going to do. There was no way he could risk ripping Robin apart in his bloodlust, it simply wasn't an option. But Robin had called him back to bed, and he couldn't resist... No, he couldn't stay, there wasn't time. There was too much that had to be done before he was ready to go. Almost the moment Robin's eyes closed, he'd made his way back to the cellar, only emerging to kiss him goodbye as he left for Vlad's.

Now, in the cellar, he regarded the empty bottles of soy blood around him with satisfaction. He'd drunk so much that he'd be amazed if he  _could_  drain Robin dry, and he certainly didn't feel the _urge_  to. Of course, it would be different once he got the scent... he downed one last bottle, leaving only the supply he was saving for Robin untouched, and made his way towards the main house. He was going to be late for the most important event of Robin's unlife; its beginning.

He sped all the way there.

* * *

"Rob," Vlad was whispering, "you did tell him the right time, yeah?" Robin nodded weakly. If Bertrand didn't come... what if he wasn't coming? What if he'd just been too concerned about Robin's reaction to tell him he didn't want to do this?

But then Bellamy knocked at the door.  
"I gave orders that we weren't to be disturbed."  
"I'm sorry, your grandness, but he's quite insistent on seeing you, and I figured you couldn't start without him, could you?" Vlad and Robin exchanged looks;  _Bertrand_  was waiting in the entrance hall?  
"I'll go and find out what he's playing at," Vlad promised through gritted fangs, "Erin, you can come and talk to Robin for a minute if you like, you're safe enough until I get back."

Robin watched Vlad walk away, a strange kind of fear welling up in his stomach. What if Bertrand had decided to resign his post and leave? He didn't mind if Bertrand didn't want to do this, but... if he'd called Vlad out rather than coming in... did he not even value Robin enough to say goodbye?

* * *

"Bertrand. What the blood and garlic are you playing at? He's falling apart in th-"  
"I can't do this, what if I mess it up? What if it's not good, what if he remembers it badly for the rest of his unlife? What if I kill him by accident?"  
"Woah. Bertrand. The only thing that's messing this up right now is that he thinks you've stood him up.  _Jilted_ , I think the word is. Aren't you? Jilting him?"  
"What? No.  _No_ , I'd never – my preparations overran – oh, blood, I hope I can manage enough of his blood to turn him-"  
"Bertrand, shut up. I'll be right there, I'll stop you if you get too into it, and of course you'll manage it, it only needs to be a few mouthfuls. Now come on, he's waiting."

The Grand High Vampire took a moment to study Bertrand's appearance, then shook his head.  
"Actually, wait. What did you mean by  _preparations_? And then you're going to wait here for a minute or two while I explain to Robin and you calm down. And sort your hair out. And  _calm down_." Bertrand frowned, smoothing his curls down as best as he could; the way he'd been running his hands through them in his panic he thought he should probably just be glad he still  _had_  hair.  
"I drank all the soy blood. So I wouldn't have room to drain Robin. Don't worry, I kept some for him, but apart from that I've cleared out our cellar. It just took a bit longer than I thought."

Vlad stared at him like he was a complete idiot – he supposed, on reflection, it did seem a bit mad – and then sighed.  
"A couple of minutes. And then I want you in that hall to turn Robin or explain to him why you can't or won't. I'll tell him what's going on. Bellamy, keep an eye on this one for me, will you? He's got somewhere important to be in two minutes."

Then Vlad was gone, leaving Bertrand to fret.

* * *

Vlad returned looking mildly irritated rather than grave, and Robin felt his hopes rise a fraction.  
"Cold feet, he just needs a moment. And apparently he was late because he was drinking  _all_  the soy blood to fill himself up." Robin didn't understand, for a moment, and then his eyes widened. No wonder Bertrand had been in their modest Blood Cellar all night. Erin returned to her place beside the throne, ready to duck behind it in case of low-flying vampires, and thirty agonising seconds ticked by.

The doors swung open and Bertrand strode in, looking focused and purposeful, enough to make Robin swoon as if he'd never seen the man before. He came straight to Robin and kissed him, murmuring in his ear as he pulled back.  
"I'm sorry."  
"It's alright. I love you."  
"You too."

* * *

Bertrand let out a deep sigh of relief as Robin forgave him for almost ruining his day, and ran a thumb gently over his cheek, down his throat, and over the bit of collarbone Robin's partially-unbuttoned shirt didn't cover. It was perfectly selected to offer him just enough access to his neck, he noticed.

He turned expectantly to Vlad, handing him the Bite License and awaiting instructions, but the Chosen One held his hands up in apology.  
"Hey, there's no script for this. I'm just here as a safety precaution, it's between you two. I'll be over with Erin." And then he backed away, leaving them to it.

Bertrand took a shaky, completely unnecessary breath and watched Robin do the same.  
"Ready, love?" His lover reached down to his wrist as if to feel his pulse one last time, drawing one more deep breath, and Bertrand found himself splaying his own hand over Robin's heart to feel the life there.  
"I'm ready. Make me one of you." Bertrand nodded, and closed his eyes. He just needed a moment to steady himself. He bought himself a little more time by leaning in and kissing his lover, wrapping his arms around him as he trailed his lips down his neck. Just his lips, for now. He didn't want to rush this. He wanted to give Robin the chance to say no.

He hadn't really thought the boy would take it.

* * *

He'd been waiting for this moment his whole life. This was what he'd dreamed of ever since he was a kid, and knew nothing about vampires except that they were cool. This was what he'd agreed to willingly, eagerly even when he'd got involved with Bertrand, when things had got serious. Ask anyone who knew him well, and they'd all say the same thing: Robin Branagh had always been destined to become a vampire.

So now the time had come, why was he terrified?

"B," he whispered, "I'm scared." Almost before he'd finished speaking, the vampire had moved, cold forehead pressing against Robin's warm one, blue eyes boring into dark.  
"Do you want to back out?" The tone of his voice made it clear that he wouldn't judge him if the answer was yes, that he would completely understand, that he would let Robin leave the room alive.

He took a deep breath.

"No, do it." Bertrand pressed the briefest, most tender of kisses to his lover's lips. It was impossible to be truly afraid with Bertrand there to look after him.  
"I love you. You're sure?" Robin nodded, taking another deep breath and tangling his hand in Bertrand's hair, using it to guide his lover down towards his neck once more.  
"I love you, Bertrand." He didn't breathe again until the world went black.

* * *

Bertrand let Robin steer his head down, let him take control as far as he could, but then his heart was pounding right in his ears and he'd asked him to do it and he couldn't resist any more; his fangs slid down and pierced Robin's flesh.

Oh, but his blood was sweet. Even the sensation of his fangs in Robin's throat was sweet. He hadn't bitten anyone in a very long time, and now the action brought with it a rush of power that he'd almost forgotten. A soft whimpering noise brought his attention back to the present; he wrapped his arms a little tighter around Robin, keeping him upright, holding him close.

His lover seemed to have decided to speed the end by holding his breath, and it wasn't long at all before he fell unconscious. Bertrand licked at the wounds to seal them, kissing his Robin's neck, and gathered him into his arms.  
"Can I take him home now?" Vlad nodded, a little distracted by the way Erin had gone pale and was gripping the arm of the throne for support. "Then we'll see you tomorrow."

When he got Robin home, he laid him gently in the coffin, tucked the vampire bears under his arm, and knelt beside him to sit vigil. Afternoon became evening, and evening crept into night, and midnight came and went.

Still, Robin did not wake. Still, though panic began to flutter in his stomach, Bertrand waited.

Robin did not stir.


	49. Chapter 49

" _Come on a date with me." The boy looked up, surprised, from where he'd been retying his shoelace, and Bertrand wondered if he'd said something wrong. "Please," he ventured after a moment, "I meant 'Come on a date with me, please.'" Still Robin stared, and he began to panic. Should he have phrased it as more of a question? Should he not have asked at all? Of course, Bertrand remembered the days when asking Robin on a date like this would have been illegal, for all that he was seventeen and above the age of consent, but that had changed. There was no reason to hide... unless Robin didn't want to be seen with-_

" _Yeah." He must have looked as surprised as he felt, because Robin was laughing as he stood to kiss him. "Yeah, I'd like to. You think too much. When?" He hadn't really thought about that._  
"Um... tonight? We could go to dinner, and maybe the pictures?" Robin grinned.  
"Sounds good. Now are you going to show me what I'm doing wrong with that awesome kick thing or what?"

 _Hours later, as darkness fell, Bertrand straightened his jacket and knocked on Robin's door. The breather had made an obvious effort to look smart without overdoing it, and for a moment it was all Bertrand could do to resist sweeping him into his arms and kissing him. No – on second thoughts, he didn't want to resist. Robin made a contented noise against his lips and Bertrand could feel some of the tension leaving his boyfriend's body._  
"Mm, I don't usually kiss on a first date," he teased, and Bertrand laughed. "So can we go and watch the vampire film that's on?"  
"We can watch anything you like."

 _As it turned out,_ Lesbian Vampire Killers  _wasn't really their thing. Still, they sat together in the dark, Robin making a big show of yawning and wrapping an arm around Bertrand's shoulder as the action on-screen continued. His hand drifted deliberately down over Bertrand's chest and the vampire treated him to a mock scowl._  
"Robin Branagh, are you feeling me up?"  
"You sat in the back row, I'm just upholding a tradition." And then, it seemed, he was upholding another one, leaning over the armrest to pull him into a tender kiss, which rapidly deepened. Bertrand was just beginning to relax into it when the cinema around him erupted into cat-calls. Robin blushed; Bertrand had to pull away from him in a hurry as the blood rushed back up to his face. It turned out, however, that the audience noise was a response to the film, not them.  
"This is a terrible film," Bertrand whispered apologetically, "can we get out of here?" Robin nodded, linking their fingers and leading him out, ignoring the complaints of the people they had to squeeze past on the way.

" _What time are we going for dinner?" Robin seemed anxious, as if he expected Bertrand to have made them reservations somewhere fancy. Garside didn't actually have a lot of fancy, so he'd just had a quick glance at the menu for a local Mexican restaurant – one he could be fairly sure was free of garlic._  
"Any time. Why?" But Robin was dragging him around to the back of the cinema, pressing their lips together once more and allowing Bertrand to push him up against the wall.  
"Mm, you're the best. Never leave me." Bertrand chuckled, but Robin merely pulled him back in for another kiss. "Not for ages, anyway. Lots more dates. Got it?" Punctuated with kisses as the demand was, Bertrand couldn't really argue.  
"Mm, yes. Lots more dates. Better films."

_Dinner was a quiet affair, and beyond a little rubbing of Robin's foot against Bertrand's, they managed to behave themselves for it. Bertrand insisted on paying - because he'd had several lifetimes to accumulate savings, and because he'd asked him out, and because it was the right thing to do so stop complaining, Robin – and then draped his jacket over Robin's shoulders as they set out for home, though the night wasn't particularly cold. Robin shivered as he snuggled into Bertrand's side all the same, allowing the vampire to wrap an arm around him._

_He'd walked the breather to his door – he'd pushed him up against it, for a few minutes, before finally stepping back and allowing him to vanish inside._  
"I had a really nice time tonight, B. Thank you. Night." One more kiss, and Robin was gone, no doubt to sleep and – hopefully – to dream of Bertrand. The vampire liked the idea of consuming his thoughts like that.  
"Sleep well," he murmured in the general direction of the door, and then practically floated down to the training room and his own shroud.

* * *

"Robin, please. Wake up. Just... just please wake up."


	50. Chapter 50

Robin woke with a start to find himself in his own coffin, thoroughly dead. Well, unless you counted the fact that he had, definitely, just woken up. Still, he couldn't hear his heartbeat, and he couldn't feel himself breathing, and as he opened his eyes he found Bertrand kneeling beside him, watching over him, murmuring to himself.  
"I love you, please be alright. Just wake up, Bran, I love you so much-"  
"I love you too," Robin managed, and then Bertrand was pulling him into a rib-crushing embrace.  
"Oh, thank blood- I thought... I wasn't sure when you should have woken up... I thought I might have..." His lips pressed against Robin's, and he felt a sudden aching sensation in his gums. He opened his mouth to ask Bertrand what was going on, but Bertrand's tongue slipped eagerly past his lips, and as he tasted the faint tang of his own blood his fangs –  _his fangs –_ shot down, causing Bertrand to make a muffled noise of alarm and pull away.

They stared at each other for a moment before Bertrand laughed awkwardly.  
"I forgot that would happen, sorry." But Robin was instinctively standing up, turning shakily towards the nearest shiny surface – the glass of a picture frame – to examine his new teeth. There was no image there, though, except Ingrid's digital photograph of himself and Bertrand asleep on a sofa at Garside. As usual, the first he knew of Bertrand's approach was a hand on his elbow, followed by arms sliding around his waist to hold him close.  
"I'm alright," he told him awkwardly, his speech distorted by the sudden protrusion of his teeth into his mouth, "I... just... I can't see them, it's weird."  
"No reflection."

His lover pressed his lips against the unmarked side of Robin's neck.  
"Are you hungry, yet?" He shook his head.

"No. No, I need... I need a minute." Bertrand obediently settled back into the coffin, just watching from afar as Robin perched on the edge and began investigating his new fangs with his fingers. When he was sure he understood what he was dealing with, he lowered his hands and glanced across at Bertrand, only to find his lover's eyes dark with lust, locked on his mouth, and a pair of matching fangs catching the dim light of the candle that had allowed Bertrand to watch over him.

* * *

Bertrand didn't even realise he'd been caught staring until Robin spoke.  
"Fog, you think they're  _hot_ , don't you?"  
"I- blood, I'm sorry, you're trying to adjust and I'm just-" He was appalled with himself; he should be supporting Robin as he came to terms with the changes, not imagining what it would feel like to run his tongue over those sharp points. But then Robin was slipping into the coffin with him again, dangerously close, grinning around the strange new fangs, and Bertrand got the distinct impression he didn't mind.

"Well, that's one less thing to worry about, I suppose," his breather – no, his  _vampire_  – murmured, and he raised an eyebrow.  
"What is?" Robin leant in and let his tongue stroke gently into Bertrand's mouth.  
"I thought you might not fancy me with fangs." Bertrand actually  _moaned_ , pulling Robin's hips down against his own and kissing him back.  
" _Fog_ , Robin, I'll show you just how stupid that idea was, tonight."  
"Tonight?" His love was smirking, although the expression looked a little strained as he tried to work out how to get his fangs out of the way. After a brief struggle, he gave up. "Why wait?"

Bertrand, for a moment, could think of no good reason... but then common sense kicked in.  
"Mm, because you overslept, love. It's 8am, and you told your parents you were getting bitten yesterday. Do you think, perhaps, they might like to know you woke up?" He helped Robin up, keeping an arm around him in case he wobbled, and was caught completely off-guard by Robin's next action.

* * *

_Vampire speed._  He was going to get to the phone and back in record time – just call his mum, then come back and let Bertrand show him exactly what he thought of his new fangs – but he'd barely begun to move when he found himself dangling from Bertrand's grip on his elbows, face an inch from the carpet.  
"You're an idiot." Bertrand's voice was teasing; apparently his ability to fall on his face was a source of great amusement.  
" _You're_  an idiot," he grumbled, which only served to make Bertrand laugh out loud as he hauled him upright.  
"Come on. None of this until you've recovered and I've had chance to train you up a bit. And not on the stairs. Let's go and call your mum." He peered at Robin's face, apparently searching for some sort of sign, and it seemed he found it. "And then we're getting you a drink."

Half an hour later, he'd managed to convince his mum Bertrand wasn't in some way faking his voice, and assured his father that he was getting the very best care, and he'd even called Chloe just to make sure she wasn't worried either. By the time he hung up on her, it was all he could do to keep from snatching the soy blood right out of Bertrand's hands.  
"Please, B, I'm a whole new kind of thirsty. It feels weird. Can I have some of your soy blood?" Bertrand seemed  _surprised_.  
"This is yours." He even uncapped it for him before handing it over, which Robin thought was probably just as well, because he'd have just tried to fang right through the bottle otherwise. It tasted strange, but he finished the bottle in seconds and accepted the second one Bertrand held out to him gratefully. "Bring it with you. You didn't see Erin once you'd been bitten, she was worried. She's been calling your mobile every two hours all night."  
"Do we have to go?" Robin managed, as Bertrand slung a small backpack across his broad shoulders.  
"Yes. For one thing, you want that Bite License back from Vlad, don't you?"

There were no further questions.

* * *

Bertrand kept a firm grip on his Robin's shoulder as they made their way to the throne room, past assorted guards and staff who  _all_  seemed to want to offer their personal congratulations.  
"Are you friends with  _everyone_?" He whispered it in Robin's ear while nobody was looking, punctuating the question with a gentle nip to the top of it.  
"Just because everyone loves me," Robin retorted quietly, "no need to be jealous."  
"You're lucky  _I_  love you, or you'd be in trouble."  
"Maybe I want to be in trouble." Bertrand had to stop walking for a second, stifling a groan, and Robin was through the door to the throne room before he could catch up.

Bertrand was literally two seconds behind him and yet by the time he got inside it was all he could do to grab Robin and pin him to the wall as he struggled desperately, eyes black.  
"Let me go- thirsty- can't you hear-?"  
"Erin," he could hear Vlad giving urgent commands, "Lesauvage is at the eastern door; get him to relocate to outside my room and you  _stay in it_  until I come to you, alright?" The door slammed; he assumed she'd taken the advice, because suddenly Vlad was there, helping to hold Robin in place. It took a few moments for the struggling to subside enough that Vlad felt he could let go, Robin collapsing gratefully into Bertrand's arms.

"Vlad, in the backpack, do you mind-?" The Chosen One didn't even question it, just pulled a bottle out and handed it over. "Sorry, love." He was talking to Robin, now, and Robin alone, because he knew where his apologies were truly needed. "I forgot, I didn't realise it'd... the bloodlust. It'll be a couple of weeks before it completely settles."  
"I tried to- I wanted to bite her. Why would I want to bite  _Erin_?" He drained the soy blood eagerly before scrunching his face up in concentration – Vlad let out the merest ghost of a laugh before Bertrand's glare silenced him – and retracting his fangs.  
"Her heartbeat. It's just a biological thing, Robin, it doesn't mean anything." He pressed a kiss to the bitemark on his lover's neck. "I'm sorry for putting you in this position."

"It's alright. So... I can't see her? For weeks?" Vlad rubbed at his eyes wearily.  
"I'll go and ask her if she'd be OK to come back... You'll have to be holding a soy blood and let Bertrand hold you down, though. You should be alright with him there." Robin hesitated, then nodded, but Bertrand was rummaging in the backpack again.  
"Last time I had this bag, I was on a mission, which means somewhere in here... aha." He produced a pair of fangcuffs and held them up apologetically. "It might help make you more comfortable."

* * *

This, Robin thought bitterly to himself, was not  _comfortable_. He was cuffed to a chair, Bertrand smoothing his hair down with one hand and holding a bottle of soy blood in the other. Still, Erin was in the room and didn't look at all intimidated by how black his eyes had gone, so things could probably be worse.  
"And you're sure you're alright?" He nodded, relieved when Bertrand allowed him a sip from the bottle; this thirst was intolerable.  
"Yeah, I'm fine, just... adjusting. Are you sticking around?" She glanced across at Vlad and he got the distinct impression they were having one of those wordless negotiations they sometimes had.  
"I'm leaving for a few weeks, but I'll come back and see you when the bloodlust wears off, if that's alright?" He nodded grimly and she made an awkward, stilted gesture towards the door. "I'm in the middle of packing, I'm gonna go and finish so you can be uncuffed. See you soon, yeah?"  
"Bye, Erin." She left quickly, but she still didn't seem afraid; Vlad went after her, presumably to make sure she wasn't too shaken, and Bertrand released him from the handcuffs without further ado.

"Well, that wasn't a complete dis- oh,  _fog_." Robin watched, with a hint of amusement, as Bertrand walked round to stand in front of him, handing over the soy blood, and stopped dead to stare. He drained the soy blood in a few hasty gulps, waiting for Bertrand to elaborate. "We need to go home."  
"Something wrong?" But he knew what that face meant; nothing was wrong. Quite the opposite, in fact. Bertrand frantically packed all the stuff he'd brought back into his bag, swung it onto his shoulders, and grabbed Robin's hand.  
" _We need to go home,_ " he repeated firmly, and Robin wasn't inclined to argue.


	51. Chapter 51

Bertrand had never felt as peaceful as he did right now, powerful body surging down to cover Robin's as the younger vampire writhed beneath him.  
"Steady, love," he warned, "I haven't even touched you yet, and I'm in no hurry."  
"Oh, fog. Oh fog, oh fog, Bertrand, you're such a bloody tease-" He could hardly argue with that, but he did relent as far as unbuttoning his shirt to let it fall somewhere across the room, and helping Robin out of his.  
"You love it," he murmured directly into his lover's ear, "and I've wanted to do this for a very long time." He felt Robin tense beneath him, as if wondering what Bertrand could possibly have been holding himself back from all this time, but he soon relaxed with a moan of pleasure as Bertrand's lips brushed his neck.

He'd never allowed himself to lavish as much attention as he wanted to on Robin's neck, and he felt it deserved its share of his affection now that it was safe to bestow it there.  
"Bran..." He mumbled it against the pale skin of his throat, on the unmarked side, and then set to work in earnest. With every smooth swipe of his tongue, every slight touch of his teeth and slow, sensuous movement of his lips, Robin moaned and whimpered and bucked his hips.  
"More... B, please,  _more_..." Bertrand chuckled, surprised at how swiftly Robin had surrendered, melted under his touch to become nothing more than a writhing mess of desire.  
"I didn't realise you were so into having your neck kissed-"  
"I'm obsessed with  _vampires_ , Bertrand, fog, why did you think I was so into them as a teenager?" That caught him off-guard, and before he knew what he was doing he was grinding down against his boyfriend, both moaning helplessly.  
"I want you," he murmured, his previous threat of taking his time all but forgotten. "I want to make you happy."  
"Oh blood, you do, just-" Robin trailed off with a little whimper as Bertrand dived down to nibble at his neck again.

* * *

Much as Robin appreciated the fact that Bertrand was avoiding the side of his neck that had been bitten the previous afternoon, he couldn't help but suspect that the other side was going to have even more marks on it by tomorrow. He thought he should probably be annoyed about that but honestly, he loved it. And he loved the way it felt, the way Bertrand was finally allowing himself to tease at his skin with his teeth, sucking harshly at his pulse point, now that there was no pulse there to worry about. He twisted his head awkwardly in an attempt to return the favour, but Bertrand surprised him by pulling back.  
"No. No biting, Robin, you can't bite me."  
"I have before-" He hesitated, realisation dawning. "Because I'm a vampire now? I don't remind you of  _him,_  do I?"  
"No! No. It's not that, Bran, I promise." Bran? Bertrand rarely called him Bran when he was putting a stop to something, unless...  
"Alright, what aren't you telling me?" Bertrand sighed.  
"Look, if you bite me now it changes things, and I'll tell you about it later but right now I just want to-" He shifted his weight onto one arm and Robin felt the other hand cupping through his jeans.  
"Ohfogyes." Answers could wait.

Bertrand was different today, somehow purposeful and certain of himself in a way he hadn't been for some time. He finally tired of worrying at Robin's throat and began kissing his way down his chest, detouring to swipe his tongue over the skin of Robin's wrist. At last, Robin understood; Bertrand was finally free of the fear that he would bite Robin, driven to madness by his pulse. No wonder he wanted to celebrate it.

It wasn't, however, until Bertrand unfastened Robin's jeans and stripped him completely that the new vampire realised how much restraint Bertrand had shown up to this point. Bertrand paused for barely long enough to give Robin chance to nod his permission before taking him into his mouth, all skilful tongue and hollowed cheeks and honestly Robin lost track of coherent thought pretty quickly at that point but what he did know was that it was  _unbelievable_. He'd never felt anything like it, and Bertrand had made him feel some pretty incredible things this way before. It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for Bertrand to reduce him to a quivering wreck, desperately trying to form his lover's name and only finally getting it out as he came down from the high he'd been riding.  
"Bertrand... Fog, B.  _Fog_." Bertrand smiled proudly and moved back up his body for a lingering kiss. "If I'd known you were holding out on me like that, I'd have had you bite me  _years_  ago."  
"Just as well you didn't know, then." He stretched himself out next to Robin, who immediately protested the inequality in their clothing and persuaded Bertrand out of his trousers as well.

He was curious, though, about one thing.  
"What was it that made you so impatient to get home, anyway?" Bertrand pulled him close, burying his head in his shoulder for a moment before speaking.  
"...Your eyes were jet black, Bran, you just... vampirism  _really_  suits you." He smirked and licked a line along Bertrand's neck before he could protest.  
"I didn't bite," he pointed out when the older vampire pulled back to glare. "And I'm totally going to ask you about that in a minute, but..." He grimaced apologetically. "I'm kind of thirsty."

* * *

Bertrand sighed; the bloodlust clearly had its claws well and truly into Robin, and it pained him to remember the hunger of being turned himself, to imagine that craving being inflicted upon his beloved. He gestured towards the backpack, which still had a few bottles in it, and watched as Robin dived for it.  
"When was the last time  _you_  drank, anyway?" In his haste to get the bottle open, distracted by his own train of thought, he tipped it and sent crimson liquid spilling over his bare chest. Bertrand tried, he really tried, not to watch it. Robin didn't notice his gaze, for a moment, busy taking a swig and catching an escaping drop on his tongue as it ran down the neck of the bottle, but then he looked down and Bertrand knew he was caught. "Well?"  
"Er... before the bite, I suppose." Robin licked his lips, and Bertrand tried to focus on the trickle of soy blood that was about to dip into his belly button rather than the rather provocative action. It seemed, suddenly, like the lesser of two temptations.  
"Want some?" He nodded gratefully, reaching for the bottle, but Robin pouted and he realised he'd made a misstep somewhere. "Really? You're going for the  _bottle_?"

Bertrand had spent a long time trying to keep a lid on his more primal vampiric urges. At first it was unseemly to rip out a throat in the open street, or at the opera. Then bottled blood became the civilised choice, and he switched to that out of a combination of the earnest desire to belong to a more sophisticated circle, and the sheer convenience of not having to find a victim and kill them. Then Vlad had set up the revamp programme, and he'd found himself trying to behave like a refined vegetarian gentleman. He'd done his best to keep the beast within from hurting Robin; it had almost overcome him, once or twice, and he'd felt soiled and ashamed of what he was.

Now, Robin seemed to be daring him to indulge his wild side; to take the blood currently running down the boy's torso – oh,  _blood_ , there was no way he'd just spilt more on himself by _accident_ – would be to reduce himself almost to an animal, lapping up what he offered. Yet the boy didn't seem to find the idea repulsive; quite the oppposite in fact. Tentatively, Bertrand leant forward and licked a careful stripe up Robin's body, surprised when Robin shivered.  
"Oh, blood, yes." Emboldened by this response, he lapped up the blood with abandon, little caring what he must look like, moaning softly as Robin leant in to kiss a trace of soy away from his mouth. When he was clean, Robin handed him the half-full bottle and turned away to fetch another for himself.

He didn't know what possessed him to do it, but before he could really process his actions he'd poured a little soy blood into his own cupped hand, cradling it close to himself and belatedly realising that that wouldn't stop the precious liquid dripping through his fingers.  
" _Bran_." Robin turned, and Bertrand immediately felt ashamed of himself for offering to feed him from his hand, like a dog – but there was no time to feel bad about it, because Robin was literally lapping it up, tongue working carefully over his entire hand until it was clean and then darting down to catch the drops that had landed on Bertrand's stomach. It was at about that point that Robin got distracted, and Bertrand's concentration didn't last much longer.

* * *

Bertrand, it seemed, had no objection whatsoever to his going a little lower and returning a favour from earlier. He took his time, relishing the way Bertrand couldn't quite stop himself from tangling his hands into his hair, enjoying every little noise he coaxed out of him before he finally shuddered and stilled, Robin doing his best to swallow and cleaning him up with his tongue.

A few minutes later, they were sitting, tangled up in each other, with a bottle of soy and a sated grin apiece. Robin clinked his bottle against Bertrand's in a mock toast.  
"Not a bad celebration of my new fangs." Bertrand kissed him gently.  
"I'm just glad they didn't get in the way, love." Robin just smiled; he'd learnt a  _few_  tricks living with Bertrand, at any rate. They stayed like that, drinking in companionable silence, for a few minutes before Robin spoke.  
"Alright. Suddenly biting's a turn-off. What's wrong?"


	52. Chapter 52

Bertrand took Robin's hands carefully into his own, setting their drinks aside for the moment, and watched his lover panic.  
"Bertrand – why no biting? Oh blood, don't tell me that was a breakup in disguise, I can't deal with that-" He stopped babbling abruptly as Bertrand carefully turned their hands so that Robin could clearly see the two pewter rings. "-oh. Oh yeah. Sorry."  
"Can I talk, now?" Robin nodded, and he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts, decide how to approach the subject.

In the end, he decided to come straight out with it.  
"Vlad's offered us a clan. Technically me, I suppose, but you'd be right at my side, we'd be-"  
"That's brilliant, B. You're gonna take it, yeah? When did he ask you? While I was asleep?" He bit his lip.  
"Before I went to fetch Erin."  
"Why didn't you-?"  
"I didn't want you to feel like you had to be bitten. In case you changed your mind. But Bran, the legal benefits-"  
"I know. But more importantly, you'd finally be getting some of the recognition you deserve." Robin pressed a gentle kiss to his neck, and then seemed to remember what they'd been talking about in the first place. "What's that got to do with biting? Or are you just trying to change the subject?"

Well, this wasn't how he'd been planning to have this conversation, but honestly, naked and tangled with his Robin beneath a blanket in their coffin seemed like the perfect way of broaching the subject now it came to it.  
"I... I want the first time you bite me as a vampire to be at our blood-binding." The teasing grin fell from Robin's face as his jaw dropped, and Bertrand wondered, briefly, if this was too much, too soon – but then Robin's hands were tangling in his hair once more, his lips brushing over Bertrand's almost reverently at first, before his kisses became more heated and he clambered into Bertrand's lap.  
" _Yes,_ " he breathed, "yes, I can wait for that." He wrapped his arms around Bertrand more firmly and let himself topple backwards until his lover had no choice but to follow. "Just don't make me wait too long."  
"That won't be a problem," Bertrand murmured against his skin. "I can't wait."

* * *

Several long minutes later, Robin was once more curled against his lover's side, a contented smile on his face.  
"Mm, I could get used to this vampire business if this is all we're going to do." Bertrand nipped playfully at his shoulder and he shivered with the exertion of not returning the favour. "Can I ask you something?"  
"Anything, my love." He seemed sincere; it almost felt like a waste of the opportunity to continue with his original line of questioning, but he did anyway.  
"How come you're so good at all that stuff? I mean, I always knew you were mind-blowing but that, earlier? That was something else."

Bertrand hesitated, and for a moment he thought he might have crossed a line – but then the older vampire sighed.  
"Honestly? A little bit of it is probably left over from... my sire... but mostly I learned from you."  
"Me?"  _That_ , he hadn't been expecting. "How could you possibly learn that from me?"  
"Well, you've never had to worry about killing me by accident, you always just go for it. So I paid attention, in case one day I actually got to let myself go a bit." Robin blinked, struggling to process the amount of effort Bertrand had clearly put into pleasing him without harming him. "Can I ask  _you_ something?"  
"Yeah, of course.  
"Where did you learn to hold your fangs back like that?" Robin chuckled, snuggling closer and resting his weary head on Bertrand's chest.  
"Vlad gave me some pointers," He was very tired, all of a sudden; he could feel his eyes closing, "but mostly I learnt from you."

He barely heard Bertrand's murmured advice to get some sleep before he had followed it to the letter and slipped into slumber. He knew, from years of experience, that his fiance wouldn't be far behind.

* * *

_This time, it was Bertrand who stood waiting, in his smart new Clan du Fortunesa regalia, surrounded by his family and friends. Everyone who mattered to him was there, except one person. The most important person in Bertrand's unlife – even more important than the one he'd spent his centuries searching for. And they were all waiting for him to arrive._

_The door opened, and Robin walked up the aisle between the two small sections of seating, shooting a nervous grin at one of the less terrifying members of the High Council as he went. And then his hands were in Bertrand's, and Vlad was speaking, and almost before he knew it he was baring his neck – but Robin just stared at him in confusion.  
"I'm a breather," he pointed out, "I can't exactly bite you-"_

Bertrand sat up in the coffin, swiftly taking in his surroundings and relaxing as he realised it had been nothing but a dream. Still, something was off about the room, the sounds were wrong... it was too quiet. He glanced down, afraid that Robin was missing, but there he lay, still and peaceful and  _not breathing_.

Bertrand panicked, pressing his hand to Robin's chest to check; no breathing, no heartbeat, this couldn't be happening. He could feel himself losing control; if he had lost  _Robin_ , allowed him to die right beside him as they slept, he had nothing to go on for.  
"Bran," he murmured, little caring about the way his voice caught and broke on the word as he hauled his lover's body – already cold! – into his arms, "No, Bran, please, Robin..."  
"B, 's middle o' the night." He almost dropped him, taken aback by the grumpy mumbling.  
"You're alive?" He blinked hard, sure he'd missed something now but unable to stir his brain into full awareness. "Oh thank blood, you weren't breathing and I thought-"  
"Vampire, B." Robin rubbed at his eyes and sat up, peering at him in concern. "Oh, blood, you actually forgot, didn't you?"

Suddenly it all came rushing back; of course Robin wasn't breathing, he'd made sure of that himself not two days ago, and if he'd only taken a moment to calm down before he freaked out he would have realised that. He hung his head, feeling extremely foolish, but Robin was holding him close now, pressing kisses to his skin, reassuring him.  
"I'm alright, love, it's OK, you're OK.  _I'm_  OK. We're all, just... fine. Alright?" Bertrand nodded, unable to relinquish the firm grip he'd acquired on Robin's hand, but his lover didn't seem to mind. "It must have been horrible for you, waking up to find me not breathing... I guess you got used to it. Shhh, shhh, it's OK." To his horror, the soothing noises were more than necessary; he was sobbing, now, sobbing against Robin's shoulder and all he could do was cling and hope he could get himself under control before Robin got fed up and left him.

Robin held him tight, keeping up a steady stream of reassuring nonsense, stroking his hair and kissing his face until the shuddering died down and he was able to steady himself.  
"Don't you ever die on me, Robin Branagh. Don't you dare." He muttered it fiercely into Robin's shoulder and the boy pulled him in for a proper kiss.  
"And leave you? Never going to happen, love.  _Never_." For a moment, they just sat there in their coffin, blanket pooled around their waists, holding on tight, and then Robin spoke again. "Come on, let's go back to sleep."

They'd been lying together, safe in each other's arms, for several minutes when Bertrand began to mumble sleepily again.  
"I love you more than anything." He heard Robin's chuckle as if from a great distance, though his arms were still wrapped around him.  
"I love you too. Sleep well."

He did as he was told.


	53. Chapter 53

Robin drained the dregs of yet another bottle of soy blood and slumped back against Bertrand's chest with a petulant – though unnecessary – huff.  
"It's not making me less... I'm less thirsty but the craving's still there, you know?"  
"Mm." Bertrand was rubbing gentle circles into the skin just below the hem of Robin's top, and it was oddly soothing. "If you need the real thing, I'm sure Vlad wouldn't mind just this once-"  
"No!" He scrambled to face his lover, now straddling his lap, clinging to his shirt. "No, don't let me. Please, Bertrand, promise me that."  
"I- yes, of course, but you're suffering, why-?"  
"I saw what it cost you to quit." Bertrand fell silent and Robin nuzzled against his neck in reassurance; they didn't often speak about Bertrand's rocky transition to an all-soy blood diet – barring special occasions and whenever Robin cut himself – but it had been brutal. For three days Bertrand had collapsed in on himself, shaking silently, and then he'd called Robin closer with a voice that barely trembled.

_"You need to leave."_  
"I'm not leaving you-"  
"You have to. It's not safe, I could hurt you-"  
"I don't care, B-" Bertrand had made a desperate, choked noise and hung his head, unable to meet Robin's eye.  
"Your heartbeat is driving me mad, Robin."

There had been a moment of horrified silence after that as Robin processed what he'd just been told... and then he'd kissed Bertrand's forehead and gone to make arrangements to stay with his parents for a few weeks. When he'd returned to Garside Grange, it had been to a pale shadow of the Bertrand he'd left there, but Vlad had assured him that he was doing much better than he had been just days before. Robin was pretty sure that to this day, Vlad believed he'd said something  _comforting_.

"...Alright, love. Do you want me to go and get some more, or would you rather I stay and distract you?"  
"Mm, distraction please." Bertrand was only too happy to oblige, and for a while the blood cravings were forgotten.

* * *

Robin was clawing at his back, clinging to his hands, making desperate keening noises Bertrand was sure he'd be embarrassed about later. There were tears streaming down his face, and if he was honest Bertrand would have to admit that he felt like crying too, watching his lover endure such torment.  
"B, please, fog, please, I need it, I need some-"  
"Shhhhh, shh, Bran, I can't, you made me promise-" The boy's hands beat against his chest and Bertrand had to fight to keep his resolve.  _He doesn't mean it, he doesn't know what he's doing._  
"I  _need_  it, is there even one vampire out there who's gone cold turkey from the start? No, so don't expect me to-"  
" _Yes_." Of course; he should have thought about it before, days ago. Maybe, much as he hated it, he couldn't help Robin. But someone who'd gone through the same thing... maybe he could. "Yes, there's  _one_. I'm calling him right now."  
"Don't let go-" The anger seemed to evaporate, leaving Robin clinging pathetically once again, sobbing against his chest, and all Bertrand could do was pull him further into his arms and press his lips to his forehead.  
"Oh,  _Robin_. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I did this to you." This earned him a broken laugh.  
"Like I didn't beg you. No, it's... I'm glad. I just... oh blood, I can't do this, can we just run away and be proper vampires?"  
"No, love, I don't think Vlad would like that. Can you reach your phone?" It was pressed into his hands, and Bertrand sighed with relief as he wrapped his arms back around Robin – now shivering pitifully – and dialled the number.

* * *

When Vlad arrived, he brought a fresh crate of soy blood with him. That was some relief, because even in his wild, frantic state Robin could tell they must be running low by now. He also brought a small parcel wrapped in brown paper, which he handed over as soon as he'd recovered from the apparent shock of seeing Robin trying to physically fight Bertrand off and make a break for the door.  
"Here. I thought- well, actually, Erin thought, when she phoned- this might help." He snatched the parcel from Vlad's grip, ignoring Bertrand's disapproving glare, and eagerly tore off the paper. "You didn't take it back," Vlad continued, as Robin traced his finger reverently along the edge of the frame, "but I thought you'd probably want it."

It was the Bite Licence –  _his_  Bite Licence, Bertrand's,  _theirs_  – the document that had allowed him to be brought to this almost feral state in the first place, and yet also a symbol of his and Bertrand's love. He stared at it for a long moment, admiring the familiar lettering of their names and the way Vlad had obviously used his official seal to indicate that it had been executed and was now null and void, then held it out to Bertrand, suddenly feeling a little tearful.  
"Can we put it on the wall?" Bertrand nodded, but after a lingering examination of his own he simply propped the frame up on top of a dresser and gathered Robin back into his arms. He was glad of it; tears were streaming down his face again and he didn't understand  _why_. What had he done to deserve this twisting, churning feeling in his stomach? And why did Vlad have to be there to see it?

The Grand High Vampire's hand landed gently on Robin's shoulder, squeezing in reassurance.  
"It's alright, Robin, your emotions will be everywhere for a few more days, at least. I remember. Bertrand remembers. Nobody's judging you." On the contrary, as Robin glanced up from where his head was resting on Bertrand's chest he realised there were tears glistening in his lover's eyes, too. He hoped, at least, that Vlad wouldn't notice-  
"Bertrand, you've been here this whole time, you need to take a break. I can look after Rob for a few hours, go and have someone set you up in a guest coffin at the main house for a little while."  
"Is that an order?" Robin frowned; Bertrand never usually questioned an instruction from Vlad.  
"No, just advice, but staying here's probably not going to do you  _or_  Robin any good."

Bertrand seemed to spend a few moments processing that, but then he tilted Robin's chin up towards himself, gazing intently into his eyes.  
"Will you be alright, Bran, if I leave for a little while?"  
"Yeah." He hesitated. "I'm sorry I attacked you earlier, and tried to run aw-"  
"Shh. No." He felt a gentle kiss being pressed to his forehead and leaned eagerly up to capture his lover's lips. Bertrand pulled away with obvious reluctance. "You don't have to be sorry, you're not yourself. Just don't do it to Vlad, 'cos he can make sunlight with his hands. Love you." And then, with a nod in Vlad's direction, Bertrand made his way to the door and closed it behind him.

Robin and Vlad stared at each other for a moment before Vlad sighed.  
"Get a bottle of soy in you and then I'll show you what else I brought." Robin felt his face light up; that could only mean one thing.  
"Comics?"  
"And a pack of playing cards, but yeah. Comics. Drink up."

* * *

Bertrand woke up to find a decidedly unimpressed Grand High Vampire glaring down at him.  
"I thought I told you to go to my place."  
"I thought it wasn't an order."  
"I thought you were going to be sensible!"  
"My place is here." He sat up with a wince. "I couldn't leave him like that. If anyone else had suggested it..." He didn't finish the sentence; it would have been uncomfortably close to a threat. He knew Vlad understood anyway.

"You do remember you've got a guest room?"  
"I tried; I could hear him. If I hadn't moved down here I'd never have been able to stay away." Vlad was silent for a moment, accepting the truth of this, and then abruptly changed the subject.  
"So, comfy sofa?"  
"I've slept on worse things. Wait – if we're both here, who's with Robin?"  
"He fell asleep. I think he tired himself out with all the raging and crying and shredding the comic that killed off his favourite character."  
"And then I suppose he demanded a new copy?" The smile he offered was tired but genuine, and Vlad returned it in the same spirit.  
"Of course. Anyway, I thought you might like to take this opportunity to tag back in and get some sleep in your own coffin. With him. You know." Vlad shrugged awkwardly. "He could probably do with a cuddle."

Bertrand could hardly say no to that.

* * *

Robin woke up hungry and instinctively reached for a bottle before he realised he was stuck where he was for now. Bertrand's arms were wrapped tightly around his waist from behind, the slightest hint of stubble tickling where his face was buried against Robin's neck.  
"You awake, B?" The vampire stirred slightly, pulling him even closer.  
"If I say yes, do I have to let go?"  
"Um... yeah, kind of. I'm thirsty." Bertrand's head lifted a fraction to peer at the nearest bottle of soy blood, just out of reach.  
"Mm, no." Robin tried to turn, with every intention of demanding an explanation, but Bertrand simply held on tight and shuffled them across the coffin until Robin could reach. "Close enough?"  
"Blood is the  _last_  thing on my mind after that little manoeuvre, du Fortunesa." He rolled over, pulling Bertrand close again so that the older vampire was left in no doubt as to the effect his wriggling had had.  
"Oh," Bertrand said, "it's so good to hear you say that." That was all he had chance to say before Robin pounced.


	54. Chapter 54

Bertrand was so relieved to have Robin's sights set on something other than human blood that he couldn't even bring himself to object as he was slammed down onto his back and Robin's lips came to cover his own. The younger man still seemed a little out of sorts, kissing him almost viciously as he tore at the shirt Bertrand was wearing. Fortunately, it wasn't one of his favourites – nobody wore their best clothes when their fiancé needed seeing through rehab – and he didn't much care as it was tossed aside and Robin began running his hands over his torso, teasing at his nipples with his fingers as he flung a leg over Bertrand's hips and kept right on kissing.

"Bran-?" He barely managed to get the name out between kisses, but that was all he could say before Robin began rocking his hips and running his lips down Bertrand's neck, thankfully keeping his teeth clear for all the harsh, bruising force of his actions. Bertrand, words failing him, swallowed down his momentary panic – yes, the boy was on top of him, but as he was going through some extremely strong blood cravings it seemed only fair to let him take a few liberties – and then Robin grabbed his wrists, pinning them against the floor as he continued to rock against him.

_No_. No, this wasn't good. This was too much, he couldn't cope with it – but Robin was focused on something other than his cravings, he couldn't deny him that, could he – no, it was no good, he couldn't stand being trapped like this. He could already feel the blinding terror creeping in, obscuring his understanding of the situation. He moved to pull his wrists from Robin's grip, squirming and trying his hardest to escape, but Robin was a vampire now, and with Bertrand in such a vulnerable position their strength was more or less equal. He couldn't shake him off.

He was breathing, now, desperate, shallow breaths that did nothing to calm him down. Robin, oblivious, was now mouthing roughly at a nipple, which Bertrand usually enjoyed, and continuing with his infuriating, terrifying thrusts against Bertrand's lower body, contorting himself impressively to do so. All Bertrand knew was that he was trapped, and he couldn't get away.  
"Robin-" - no, those couldn't be tears springing to his eyes, they  _couldn't_ , he wouldn't  _let_  them - "Please- oh blood, please let me go."

* * *

"Robin- Please- oh blood, please let me go." He drew back, startled, to find Bertrand staring up at him with wide, horrified eyes, as if he was looking upon his own death. The trembling Robin had noticed didn't seem to be arousal after all, now that it was coupled with tears and desperate pleading. He didn't understand it, for a moment, beneath the primal chant of  _want-take-have_ that was thrumming through his body in place of his pulse, and then suddenly it all clicked back into place. He threw himself out of the coffin, disgusted with himself.  
"Bertrand- oh, Bertrand, I'm sorry-"

It was heartbreaking to see the way Bertrand immediately leapt out on the other side of the coffin and clung to its edge, his arms still visibly shaking even as he shook his head.  
"It's alright, it wasn't, you didn't, it's OK-" Robin hesitated, checking his natural impulse to go round there and hug him, and settled at last for holding out a hand across the coffin instead.  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Tentatively, his hesitation tugging at Robin's heartstrings, Bertrand reached out and touched their fingers together, just barely.  
"I can't look after you, I- should we fetch Vlad?" Robin blinked at him, confused and distracted by Bertrand's gradual entwining of their fingers. He wasn't sure the older vampire was even aware of doing it. "The blood. Someone needs to be in a fit state to help you-"  
"No. No, I'm alright. I... fog, B, I don't know what came over me."

There was a long silence as Bertrand's eyes settled on their linked hands.  
"Will you look after _me_?" It was quiet, and timid, and everything Bertrand usually  _wasn't_ , and it made Robin feel like the worst kind of scum. Still, he nodded and used his hand in Bertrand's to gently guide him to the end of the coffin, meeting him there.  
"Would you like a hug?" He'd barely finished his sentence before his arms were full of Bertrand, who'd collapsed against him as if boneless and was clinging for dear unlife.  
"Why can't I do it?" Despite his new vampiric strength, Robin staggered a bit before he managed to get them both upright and stable. Bertrand's tone carried a little more self-loathing than Robin would have liked. "I knew it was you, and I still- why couldn't I- and now you're stronger than me, not that it matters because you're  _safe_ , I'm safe with you, I know that-" He looked up into Robin's eyes, pleading, "-I  _do_ , I promise I know that, but I just... I don't know why it doesn't help."  
"Shhh, it's OK. It's OK. It's not your fault." He managed to shift a hand up to rest in Bertrand's curls, resting his head on Bertrand's shoulder as he tried to find the right combination of words, something that would make his lover feel better. "I love you, B," he settled on eventually, "I love you so much. And I'm so sorry I hurt you." Bertrand mumbled something that  _might_  have been 'I love you' and buried his face against Robin's neck.

They stood like that for several minutes, just holding on tight, and then Robin dared to drop a soft kiss on Bertrand's cheek.  
"What can I do to help you, love?" A hand came hesitantly up to rest over his heart before tentatively moving down to grasp the hem of his t-shirt.  
"Off?" Robin nodded, perplexed, and allowed Bertrand to lift the fabric over his head. The older vampire wriggled out of the remains of his shirt, too, looking self-conscious, before wrapping his arms back around Robin and, well...  _snuggling_. There was no other word for it, really.  
"Shall we sit?" The younger boy offered, after a long moment, and within minutes they were lounging side-by-side on the old windowseat, Bertrand trying to press as much of himself as he could against as much of Robin's skin as possible.

* * *

Bertrand wasn't proud of how long it took him to stop trembling, skin-to-skin with his beloved Robin. The boy was stroking his hair, making soft nonsensical sounds to soothe him. Finally, he managed to get his shaking limbs under control, but he didn't let go. Robin's murmuring trailed off and they sat in a comforting sort of silence for a few minutes.

"It's not like I can't do it sometimes," he blurted at last, "I mean, in training I have to let myself get pinned all the time, it's fine when I'm just having a fight, I don't know why..." Robin pressed a kiss to his forehead.  
"Maybe it's the context. You know, my highly dishonourable intentions towards y-"  
"Sometimes I can't train." This took them both by surprise. "I... Some days, I'm terrified of being powerless. That's... that's when I have to do telepathy with Vlad, or flying. Or..." He bit his lip, knowing he must look incredibly sheepish.  
"Or?" Robin prompted gently.  
"...Or bribe you with tea." There was an anxious silence, and then Robin burst out laughing.  
"So  _that's_  why you're always talking me out of training. Oh, love." He looked a little apologetic, though, Bertrand thought. "I shouldn't laugh, but... oh, I love you so much."

"I'm sorry," Bertrand found himself saying two minutes later, "I've ruined the mood, haven't I?" Robin pulled away slightly to look him in the eyes, searching for something.  
"Do you want it not to be ruined?" He turned his face away; he could hardly demand Robin's affection now, after the way he'd panicked. "B, do you still want me now?"  
"...You don't have to go along with-"  
" _Bertrand_." He looked up to find that Robin had been waiting for him to do so. "I'm all yours. What do you want from me?" He couldn't answer, just snuggled closer, pressing his lips to the fading bite mark on his lover's neck. "Do you want me to make you feel like the most important person in the world? I can do that, it's easy, because you are. I can kiss you and touch you and hold you tight until you believe it, if that's what you want. I'll do anything for you, B, just tell me I can and I will."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Robin found himself kneeling between Bertrand's legs as his fiancé kept a tight grip on his hands. Apparently, it was helping him not to feel trapped, and honestly, Robin didn't mind as he kissed and licked his way around Bertrand's body.  
"You're beautiful, B," he murmured, pausing to press a kiss to one of the deep scars just below Bertrand's bottom ribs, "so beautiful, and I'll never hurt you." He kept kissing, feeling Bertrand's grip tighten and then relax again, letting the worst of the tension drain from his shoulders as he ran his tongue across his collarbone. Only when Bertrand finally slumped backwards with a little sigh of contentment did Robin rest his head against his lover's thigh.  
"B, may I...?" The older vampire let go of his hands and nodded, allowing him to make short work of unfastening Bertrand's trousers and taking him into his mouth. He could feel a hand in his hair, but it wasn't pulling him away, so he kept going until Bertrand let out an involuntary moan and shuddered his release.

He led Bertrand over to the coffin as soon as he could stand again, and settled in beside him. His fiancé reached for him, as if to return a favour, but Robin shook his head. "Another time, love. Tonight is for you." Bertrand chuckled wearily.  
"I love you. Let me touch?" Robin could hardly deny him that, even if he'd really wanted to, and before long they were both equally spent, curled together in the middle of the coffin.

"Love you, B. I really am sorry."  
"Mm, you've said that. Shh. Forget about it." He felt himself being pulled still closer to Bertrand's firm, muscular body. "How are you holding up, with the cravings?"  
"They're not as bad just now." He was almost surprised to realise it; he'd barely thought about blood at all since Bertrand had panicked. He hesitated. "B... don't take this the wrong way..." That was a mistake; Bertrand tensed, anticipating some horrible judgement, and Robin stumbled onwards. "I just... I'm worried... do you think maybe you'd like to talk to someone about what happened?"  
"...Talk? To... who?" No, no, this wasn't good, he could hear the panic and the defensiveness in his love's voice.  
"I dunno, a counsellor or something. Just a thought. Don't worry about it."  
"Not you?" Robin sighed, pressing a fond kiss to his bare shoulder.  
"You can always talk to me, B, but you don't seem to want to tell me about it. I just thought maybe a stranger might be easier to open up to. But it's just an idea. Ignore me if you like."

For a moment, it felt as if he was in serious danger of being crushed in Bertrand's arms. Then the pressure lessened, Bertrand's grip relaxing, and he got his answer.  
"Not... not yet. I can't talk about it yet. Maybe in a few more years, I'll think about it." Robin nodded, accepting this, and simply lay stroking his lover's hair until he fell asleep and Robin finally had chance to fetch his soy blood from the coffinside.


	55. Chapter 55

Bertrand woke alone.

"Robin?" He took a deep, futile breath and listened. Sure enough, he could hear a voice downstairs, as well as the scraping sound of something heavy being dragged along the floor.  
"No, I haven't said anything yet. But... well, no, he won't like it, but h- I need this. They've already agreed. But I can't be here on my own." There was a pause. "Wasn't he one of that first class? ...Yeah, if he'll come... that would be great. Thanks, Vlad." By the time Robin put the phone down and turned, Bertrand was standing right behind him, eyeing the suitcase by his feet warily.  
"You're sending me away?" He staggered slightly as Robin threw his arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.  
"Just to my parents', for a few days. You don't have to go, B, but I really think you should."  
"Because I messed up last night?"  
"Because  _I_ did. Bertrand, I don't know what came over me, I was... I was out of control, like some kind of animal. And until I'm done with this revamp thing, I can't make sure you feel safe. I don't want to hurt you, love. Please. Just a few days."

Bertrand thought about it for a moment. He was exhausted from over a week of looking after Robin as he suffered through blood withdrawal; he was shaken by the events of the previous night; a few days away sounded like a blessed relief. But Robin was going through something monumentally difficult, and he couldn't just abandon him because he was tired.  
"It's alright, I can stay with you-"  
"B, please, I can't bear the thought of putting you through that again." He seemed sincere; for Robin, then. For Robin's sake, he could leave.  
"Who's coming to look after you? You shouldn't be alone-"  
"Vlad's going to call an old friend of yours, apparently. I vaguely remember you mentioning- Malik?"

Bertrand let out a deep sigh of relief. Robin would be in safe hands.  
"Yeah. One of my first revampers. He's been running his own classes, he'll help you."  
"Why didn't I ever meet him?"  
"You were a breather. He was a blood addict. I couldn't see it ending well." Robin grimaced.  
"Oh. Yeah. Thanks."

* * *

By the time the sun set, Robin had spent an hour pinned to the floor – initially to stop him from clawing at his own face as the cravings overtook him, but if he'd taken advantage of having Bertrand on top of him he didn't see how anyone could blame him – and at least three more reassuring Bertrand that he would be alright without him for a few days. And, of course, trying to find out more about this Malik guy.  
"I don't know, Robin, I haven't seen him in four years. He's... a bloke, just some bloke. Used to run a gang of street-fangs, now runs revamp classes, would be the poster child of the revamp movement except that when Vlad suggested that, he refused on the grounds of  _having a reputation to uphold_."  
"Yeah, but what's he  _like_? What's his football team? What does he do for fun?"  
"I... I really don't know, Robin, we had other concerns when I knew him." He might have sounded annoyed, except that his hand was still running gently through Robin's hair, soothing. "You can ask him yourself when he gets here. Keeping a conversation going helps, anyway." Robin frowned.  
"Then you must know  _something_ about hi-" There was a knock at the door, and Bertrand rushed down to open it. Sunset, already – how time flew. Robin followed him down just in time to see his lover breaking from a strange sort of arms-length hug with a stranger and catch the end of a conversation.

"Did you tell him-?"  
" _No_."  
"Good. Funny story, actually, but we'll get to that when you come back. Leave your toyboy with me, we'll have a fun time, I'm sure he'll call you when we're done."  
"Did you have to make that sound as sexual as possible?" Bertrand had his back to him, but Robin could  _hear_  the glare in his voice.  
"Didn't  _have_  to, no. But it's a lot more fun." He – Malik, Robin could only assume – glanced up and noticed Robin stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs before turning back to Bertrand. "Clear off, old man, I'll take him from here." He handed him the suitcase that had been waiting in the hall and clapped him on the back as if he expected him to just take off. For a moment, Robin almost thought he was actually going to.

Bertrand set the suitcase pointedly back on the floor and turned to wrap Robin in his arms, pressing a possessive kiss to his neck before turning to glare at Malik. The message couldn't have been clearer, even from the slightly awkward angle at which Robin was viewing it.  _Mine_. He nudged his lover's shoulder gently to get his attention back and gave him a proper goodbye kiss, ignoring Malik's rather deliberate-sounding cough.  
"Give my love to Mum and Dad," he murmured as they broke apart, "and take care. I love you." Bertrand bumped their noses together awkwardly and forced a smile.  
"Be strong, you can do this. I love you too." And then, with a nod to Malik that somehow managed to convey friendly respect  _and_  dire threats if anything happened to Robin, he swept up his case and was gone.

Robin stared at the door for a moment, frowning; Bertrand must have been more shaken than he let on if he was leaving so quickly and with relatively little fuss. On the plus side, he supposed, it also meant he really did trust Malik with Robin. Speaking of which...  
"Since you kicked my boyfriend out before he could introduce us... you must be Malik. I'm Robin." He held out a hand and Malik... well, Robin wasn't sure quite what he did but it seemed way cooler than a handshake. "And you have  _got_  to teach me that."

* * *

By the time Bertrand landed in the Branaghs' garden, he was already having severe misgivings about leaving Robin. It wasn't that he didn't think he could get through the blood cravings without him – Malik was more than capable of dealing with an addict at their worst, never mind a new fang who'd never even tasted the stuff - or even that he was leaving him with a stranger. His concern was more selfish; how was he supposed to survive without Robin for the next few days?

The back door opened, spilling light onto the grass, and Mr Branagh peered out into the darkness.  
"Who's that?" Bertrand stepped sheepishly into the light and watched his future father-in-law relax, lowering the wrench he'd been holding onto a nearby worktop. "Oh, Bertrand. I thought you were one of those kids who've been in everyone's sheds. Come in, it's cold out there."  
"Graham? What's going on?" Mrs Branagh's voice carried as Bertrand stepped into the kitchen and closed the door behind him. "Bertrand – sorry, love, I didn't hear the front door go."  
"I... actually, I'd just landed. I thought the back garden might be better." There was a tense moment as the Branaghs caught up with the idea that Bertrand was capable of  _flight_. Then Elizabeth pulled him into her customary hug, and Graham relieved him of his case, and before he knew it they were all sitting in the front room together nursing hot cups of tea.

"Is Robin alright, Bertrand? He sounded ever so worried on the phone..."  
"He's fine. He's doing really well, actually, I'm very proud of him." He paused, frowning as he weighed his options before settling on a sort of half-truth. "He was worried about me; it's hard watching someone you care about struggling like that."  
"But you're OK, aren't you?" He nodded.  
"Yeah. I think Robin was right to send me away, though; I'm no good to him so exhausted." That, of course, was a stupid thing to say. Before he knew what was happening he'd been handed a fresh pair of pyjamas - "We weren't sure if you'd bring any, love, and you know how the landing gets draughty at night" - and bundled upstairs to Robin's old room.

He didn't get changed immediately; instead, once he'd brushed his fangs he went back to Robin's room and just stood, looking around at all the things around him that were just so  _Robin_. Nominally, of course, it was now a guest room, but only in the sense that Robin didn't actually live there any more; any visitor who stayed there would still be surrounded by childhood toys and gothic ornaments – the sheer number of bats was astounding, and Bertrand knew exactly which vampiric trick he was teaching Robin first when he got home – and drawings. There were so many drawings covering the walls, of castles and monsters and fangs and capes and even a few portraits – a thirteen-year-old Vlad even stared solemnly down at him from the wall. Usually, the effect of the room belonging to a boy who'd just stepped out for a bit wasn't so striking, but without Robin there it all seemed a little overwhelming.

Snapping himself out of it, he went to check that the curtains were securely closed ready for the morning – they'd forgotten once and Bertrand had had to hide under the duvet until Robin not only woke up, but could actually be bothered to move and close them – and caught sight of movement in the darkness of the Branaghs' garden.


	56. Chapter 56

"Alright, Robin, Vlad tells me you've never even tasted human blood, so I just want to take a moment to congratulate you on the sheer _insanity_ of how addicted you're acting right now." Robin paused to glare at him and went right back to trying to bash down the door to the Blood Cellar. "Also, Bertrand doesn't drink either, generally, does he? So there's no blood down there."  
"There is. Engagement present. Mine." Malik blinked, then sprang into action to grab his arms and haul him bodily upstairs.  
"So you're telling me you were just trying to break into your own Blood Cellar to steal  _your own blood_? As in, blood that used to be inside you? I've drunk a lot of blood in my time, but that's just..." He pulled a face that finished his sentence for him, and after a moment Robin felt his own face scrunch up to reflect it.  
"Fog, you're right. And breaking into B's cellar to do it – this is why I had to send him away, I'm totally out of control." Malik seemed to relax a little, though he didn't move away from the defensive position he'd taken up between Robin and the coffin-room door. He glanced around, as if looking for a change of subject.  
"It's alright, we've all been through it. You're doing well, actually. So, this isn't your room, I take it."  
"What gave it away?"  
"You'd have stuff everywhere. I'm pretty sure Bertrand can't even  _function_ in any room with less than three books in it. Is this where I'll be staying?"  
"Oh," He probably should have mentioned that before. "Yeah. Hope it's alright, it's not much to look at but the curtains work, so no sunlight-"  
"It's great. You look shattered, do you need me to guard your door while you drift off, or...?"  
"No, I'll be alright." He made his way to the door and turned back with a grateful nod. "Thanks for coming, by the way. Bertrand... he needed to get away." Malik simply nodded in return.  
"See you in the morning, Robin."

* * *

One of the hooded figures in the garden was wielding some kind of crowbar, and as Bertrand stepped out onto Robin's window ledge he could hear them muttering something about setting a fire. One of them started trying to force the shed door as Bertrand watched, and he took an extra second to weigh them up, checking for any unexpected danger. Then he launched himself into the air and dropped like a stone, almost directly on top of them.  
"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." The apparent leader dropped the crowbar straight on his mate's foot as he whirled round, and the unfortunate boy let out a howl of pain.  
"Oh, yeah?" One of the gang had recovered from the shock of seeing him faster than his friends had. "What are you gonna do about it, mate?"

Bertrand hesitated for a moment – there was a truce, after all, and Vlad would be furious if Bertrand blew their cover – but Vlad never had to find out, and this was Graham's beloved shed they were trying to break into. So he sped once around the group and stopped, dropping instinctively into a fighting stance, fangs bared and eyes black. The kids, predictably, ran for the hills. Bertrand watched their progress over three fences and through two extremely prickly-looking rosebushes, and was back in Robin's room with the window and curtains closed before the first of the neighbours even got outside to investigate the screaming.

* * *

Robin woke up to find Malik stretched out at the top of the stairs, fast asleep. Well – he'd thought so, but before he could step over him, the older vampire's eyes flew open.  
"Going anywhere nice?" He enquired pleasantly, and Robin realised he wasn't getting anywhere near the Blood Cellar today. That was good. Actually, he wasn't even that thirsty.  
"Nah, just thought I'd make some toast. Want some? Not as good as B's scrambled eggs, but..."  
"Yeah, I could go for some toast." He unfolded himself from the top of the stairs, apparently content to let the reason he'd been there instead of in a comfy coffin room go unspoken as they wandered down to the kitchen and Robin loaded up the toaster.

"How did you end up with Bertrand, anyway? He never would talk about you in revamp." Robin sighed, a tiny smile quirking up the corner of his lips.  
"Vlad missed me, apparently. And you know how Bertrand gets when Vlad wants something. He came and got me, Vlad lifted the mind wipe – he'd made me forget all about the whole vampire thing, you know – and, well, I started hanging out with Bertrand. He was the only vampire I'd ever met who was  _proud_  of it, but not too proud to talk to me. And I had this huge vampire obsession, so... And then I suppose it just... happened." Malik scrunched his nose up and Robin glared at him, wishing he could do it as well as Bertrand did, though it seemed Malik was immune in any case. "Shut up, not like that."  
"He any good?" The toast popped and Robin turned away, sliding the toast onto plates and passing one to Malik before piling every imaginable condiment onto the table in front of him. Malik deliberated for a while, then went for the marmalade. Robin stuck to butter, but by the time he'd finished spreading it, Malik was still regarding him with an expression of insolent expectation on his face, half a slice of toast dangling from his mouth. "Well?"  
"Why would you want to know?"  
"Why don't you want to answer?" Robin shrugged, trying to act casual.  
"I don't want you trying to steal my mind-blowing fiancé, that's all."

At this, Malik dropped his toast – fortunately only onto his plate, because Robin wasn't particularly inclined to make him any more – and stared at him.  
" _Fiancé_?" Robin nodded, wondering if he shouldn't have said anything. Malik let out a low whistle. "Sly old dog kept that one quiet. Wow, I underestimated you, Branagh. Not only have you  _tamed_  the beast but now he's agreeing to wear a collar? Congratulations." Robin frowned, raising his hand to show off the engagement ring.  
"This isn't just for decoration, you know. What did you think it was?" Malik shrugged.  
"Fashion statement?" Robin shot him a withering look and he held his hands up in surrender before picking up his toast once more. "So, what do you want to do today?"

* * *

Bertrand was twisting the ring on his finger, over and over, anxiously wondering what Robin was doing. How he was coping. How Malik was treating him. His gaze drifted towards the phone again, and Elizabeth caught him looking.

"Call him, love, if you're worried. I'm sure he won't mind." He almost reached for the handset, but drew back at the last minute. Robin would be so upset if he thought Bertrand didn't trust him...  
"It's alright. Let me do the washing up for you, Mrs- Elizabeth, it's the least I could do."

Two hours later, Elizabeth answered the phone.  
"Oh, Robin, love, I'm glad you called, we were running out of housework! I didn't  _make_ him do anything, he says he needs the distraction. Truth be told I couldn't bear to see him sitting there like a wet weekend... Bertrand, it's Robin, for you." Bertrand was at her side almost before she could finish her sentence, relieving her of the phone.  
"Bran? Everything OK?" Mrs Branagh drifted away to give them some privacy, but he had a suspicion that no such consideration was being given on the other end of the line.  
 _"Everything's fine. Malik's keeping an eye on me, and I actually feel OK right now, but I miss you."_ Bertrand's suspicions were confirmed as he heard exaggerated retching in the background. _  
_"I miss you too. How's Malik treating you, anyway? Besides being extremely immature while you're on the phone?"  
 _"He's worryingly interested in how you are in bed, actually. If I didn't know better I'd think he had a crush."_ The retching noises intensified.  _"Other than that, it's been fun. We've been playing battleships. He cheats."_ There was a very long pause.  
"...Trick him into sitting by a mirror," Bertrand managed at last, "he probably won't notice, because he's so used to not showing up in them, but the board..."  
 _"Thanks, B, but I think I'm just gonna thrash him at chess instead. Are you OK?"_ Another hesitation, slightly too long, and Bertrand was kicking himself for it even as he answered.  
"I'm fine, you just worry about you. Want to talk to your mum?"  
 _"Yeah, alright."_ Robin sounded a little doubtful.  _"I love you."_  
"Love you too." He thrust the phone into Elizabeth's hands and went to slump on the sofa.

Malik had been asking about his sexual prowess. What had Robin told him? What if he'd taken the whole 'trust your revamp sponsor' idea to heart and told him all about Bertrand's... issues? He couldn't cope with that – but surely Robin knew that. Surely he knew he didn't want all that spread around?

"Bertrand, love, Robin's friend wants to talk to you." She pressed her ear back to the phone and laughed. "Sorry.  _Your_ friend, Robin's sponsor." He took the phone and forced a grin.  
"I'm not sure I'd say  _friend_."  
" _Shut up, we both know you love me. Speaking of which, I don't have a crush, I was just teasing Robin. Made his little face light up, though, so you must be doing something for him. And you're engaged? Anyway, no time for that. I've kicked him out of his own kitchen, for the moment, so I can tell you how he's doing."  
_ "You had to kick him out for that?" That was a worrying development. Robin had seemed fine when he spoke to him.  
 _"Keep your hair on. He's fine, he's doing really well right now, like he told you."_ Malik hesitated.  _"But I know the signs, and he's about to hit a bad patch. It's one of the reasons I told him to call you now. You know, while he's himself."_ Bertrand's mouth went dry. _  
_"How bad?"  
 _"Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if this is the turning point. But you know how that goes. Hell, you did it alone."  
_ "Vlad was th-"  
 _"Vlad wouldn't know bloodlust if it bit him. Well, OK, he would, but he's never been hooked. Anyway, Robin'll be fine. I'll be right here with him. But if you wanted to come home I'd understand that, I thought I'd better warn you."_ It was tempting; he missed Robin, and the thought of leaving him to go through the worst of withdrawal without him was painful. When Malik spoke again, his voice was softer.  _"I do know, though, that he's afraid he'll hurt you. I don't know if he'll get violent, but most of us did, most people do... it might be one more thing for him to worry about."  
_ "Yeah." Bertrand wanted nothing more than to be there for him, but it was better for them both if they stayed away. "I'll stay here – be careful, though, he's stronger than he looks and  _I_ trained him." Malik let out a short bark of laughter.  
 _"Oh, great, this should be f- I've gotta go, I think it's starting to hit him. He's trying to get into the cellar again. Call you when you're good to come home."_ The line clicked, and Bertrand stared at the phone. He didn't feel very reassured.

* * *

"Robin! Robin, sit down. You're going to hurt yourself."  
"It's you that's hurting me, you're starving me, why won't you just let me drink?" Robin thrashed against the hands holding him down, but Vlad and Malik were braced on either side of him and neither of them was going to give up without a fight.  
"You're not going to starve, you've had three soy bloods and a whole Chinese takeaway in the last hour. Just stop trying to kill us all."  
"I just... I need blood, Vlad, you don't even know-"  
"I  _do_ -" Malik cut off Vlad's indignant retort.  
"Ignore him. He doesn't mean it, any of it. It's the bloodlust talking. Listen, Robin, you're going to ride this out and then Bertrand's going to come home. That'll be good, won't it?"  
"Don't let me hurt him," Robin whimpered, suddenly shrinking into himself, "don't let me hurt Bertrand. He's the only idiot who'd marry me, I want him to marry me." They probably thought he didn't hear Malik's grumble about never having a tape recorder when you needed one, but he heard. "Please," he offered after a moment, "just let me go to bed."

He waited ten minutes after they left him there before easing the lid off of the coffin and peering out... straight into the unimpressed face of his revamp sponsor.  
"Cough up, Chosen One, you owe me a tenner." Money was passed over the top of the coffin before Malik narrowed his eyes at him. "As for you, breather-boy, get back in your coffin and  _sleep_."

Twenty minutes later, he tried the same trick again, only to find that there was something heavy on top of the coffin.  _Charming_. He supposed, after all, he would have to go to sleep. But not before he'd thrown a tantrum and banged on the coffin lid until his fists hurt.

* * *

Three days later, Bertrand was pacing anxiously at the Branaghs' house as Graham and Elizabeth came in from watching the sun go down together. He hoped that when he and Robin had been together for as long as Robin's parents had been, they would still find the time to do romantic little things like that. Admittedly, watching the sun go down wasn't something they'd ever get to do, but there had to be some equivalent. Perhaps they could stargaze together. He wished Robin would call him.  
"How was it?" He asked, and rather than shrugging the question off, his future in-laws sat down and described the colours of the sky to him, the way the view of the garden changed as the light faded, the strange stillness of the world as the sun sank.  
"And," Graham added, "Nobody's broken into any of the sheds 'round here in days, now."

Bertrand was spared the minor inconvenience of trying to act innocent by the sound of knocking at the door. Since it was already dark, and he was nearest, he went to open it... only to find his fiancé on the doorstep. Before he even knew what he was doing he'd swept him into his arms and crushed their lips together.  
"Gross," he heard from behind Robin, "are they always like this?" There was the soft, unmistakeable sound of one leather-clad arm crashing into another, and another voice.  
"Give them a break, they've been apart for days and Rob's been going through enough."

Bertrand reluctantly pulled back in order to greet Malik and the Grand High Vampire.  
"We thought we'd walk him home," Vlad explained, "we came through the middle of town and he didn't so much as think about biting anyone, and he didn't yesterday when we did the same thing, so we're pretty sure he's safe. He wanted to see his parents." Sure enough, Robin had disappeared with a squeeze of Bertrand's hand and his mum could be heard cooing over him in the kitchen. "Actually, I should-" He slipped past Bertrand and made his way inside as well, leaving Malik and Bertrand on the doorstep.

"I'd invite you in if I could, Malik, but it's not my house." The reformed street-fang shrugged.  
"I'm not bothered. So, yeah, while Vlad's not about – you know that secret from when I was at Garside?" Bertrand remembered it well; in the throes of withdrawal, Malik had come to him for advice on an entirely different matter.  
 _"Mum says Count Dracula's my father. I don't know whether to say anything. He doesn't seem to like me much, I'm not sure I want to see if that changes once he knows."_  
In the end, they'd decided not to tell him, for the time being, and for five years that seemed to have worked pretty well. Bertrand wasn't sure why he was bringing it up now.  
"What about it?"  
"Well, um... Mum caught up with me again last year, told me I'm  _actually_  the son of Amirmoez, you know, the Council Member? And she tried to convince me to take  _his_  throne. So I've decided I can't trust a word she says. I went to the Council to see if they had any records, and it turns out I have a  _birth certificate_ of sorts. Very fancy. Anyway, it turns out my dad was a half-fang and he died when I was about 50. So... yeah. I'm not the Count's son after all. Yay?"

Bertrand processed this quickly, hesitated, and pulled Malik into a hug.  
"I'm sorry about your father." He got a mirthless snort for his pains.  
"I'm sorrier about my mother, to be honest. She's crazy." But he hugged back all the same. They broke apart in a hurry as Graham appeared in the doorway.  
"You must be Malik." He offered a hand to shake and Malik took it politely as Elizabeth and Robin joined them.  
"Why don't you come in for a cup of tea and a chat? You've helped Robin out enormously, and we'd love to get to know you." Malik hesitated and Bertrand nudged him with a stage whisper.  
"Watch out, they'll adopt you." Malik, far from being deterred, grinned widely and stepped over the threshold.  
"I suppose I could stick around for a chat."

"Mum, Dad," Robin interrupted suddenly, eyes fixed firmly on Bertrand's, "will you be alright with Vlad and Malik if the two of us go for a walk?"  
"'Course we will, love. We'll have a good chat about you behind your back. I'm sure these two boys have lots of stories." It was testament to the strength of Robin's new-found passion for walking that he didn't change his mind at his mother's words.  
"Great. Come on, Bertrand. Back in an hour or two, Mum..." And then he was pulling Bertrand away from the parents he'd missed so much.

"I thought you wanted to see them," Bertrand began as he was dragged down the block at a rate of knots.  
"Oh, I did. I do. But right now, I want to see you. And it would have been awkward sneaking off to my room with everyone there."

_Oh._  Suddenly it all made sense. Bertrand liked this new plan.


	57. Chapter 57

"How come it didn't take me as long as it took you?" Robin asked him, and Bertrand frowned, skirting around a patch of broken glass in the grass in front of him.  
"Revamp? It's faster if you've never drunk, I think, and we've learnt a lot to improve our methods since I did it." He smiled at him. "Besides which, you happen to be a star."

Robin grinned and they wandered on.

They'd found their way to the park, deserted at this time of night as for some reason the gang of hooded youths who usually hung out there after dark had stopped venturing out at night. Bertrand was quite happy to plod along forever if it meant spending time with his Robin, who he'd missed terribly while he was away, but his fiancé abruptly disappeared from his side and when Bertrand turned, he found that he'd flopped to the floor. Checking the ground for any unpleasant surprises, Bertrand dropped down beside him.  
"You know, I was just  _thinking_ about stargazing with y-" Robin, it seemed, had other ideas, rolling onto his side to claim Bertrand's lips. Bertrand responded eagerly and before he knew it, Robin was on his back with his lover on top of him, running kisses down his neck and back up again. Robin bucked his hips in response and Bertrand stopped to frown at him.  
"That's not fair; we're in public."  
"Nobody's gonna see us, B." Robin threw his head back, baring his throat in shameless invitation. "I've missed you."  
"It's still-" Robin pushed his hips up again and Bertrand groaned, thrusting against him in return before he could even think about it. "We shouldn't-"  
"Do you want me to stop?"  
" _No._ "

Bertrand dived back down to nibble at his Robin's neck, a soft growl escaping him as the younger man tried to reciprocate.  
"No biting."  
"I'm not- fog, B, that's- I've missed you." He paused with a smirk.  
"That's-?"  
"That's  _good_ , don't stop that, don't- why did you stop?" Bertrand laughed.  
"If I don't, we're going to get carried away." Robin pouted.  
"...Fine. Get up."  
"What?"  
"Get up, we're moving."  
"Where?" But he stood and held out a hand to pull Robin to his feet.  
"Mm, over there. Can you show me how to do vampire speed?"  
"You did it, in our room at home."  
"Can you show me how to stay  _upright_?"  
"You run, and I'll be right behind you in case you need catching."  
"You just want to laugh at me," Robin accused, but he obediently took off at a run and promptly stumbled into Bertrand's waiting arms. "It's  _difficult_."  
"You just need to get used to it."  
"Carry me?" Nobody, Bertrand reasoned, could resist that face.

–

Bertrand, bless him, had actually carried him, bridal-style, to the middle of the patch of bushes he pointed out before lowering him gently to his feet.  
"What did you want to come in here for?" Robin didn't bother answering, just launched himself at his lover and threw his arms around his neck, dragging him to the ground.  
"Now nobody can see us." Bertrand frowned for a second, and then Robin watched him work it out.  
" _Here_?"  
"Why not?"  
"Public indecency laws?" But he was pressing Robin into the grass to kiss him again, and Robin was fairly sure he was only arguing for the sake of it. Still, it didn't hurt to be sure.  
"You don't want to?" Bertrand bit his lip, as if he didn't know that drove Robin utterly wild.  
"You're a  _terrible_ influence, Robin Branagh." He claimed Robin's lips again, but as he pulled away a thought struck the younger vampire.

"If we get married-"  
"When," Bertrand corrected mildly, rubbing his thumb over the ring on Robin's left hand.  
" _When_  we get married... I'll be taking your name, right? Because of the clan thing?"  
"If you're alright with it, yeah-"  
"Then will you still call me Bran?" Bertrand started to nod, but Robin's train of thought had got away from him a bit. "Or will you have to call me Doof? 'Cos I'm not sure I'm OK with being called Doof-" Bertrand was laughing out loud, a rare enough occurrence in itself but even more so now, given that he seemed to be trying to kiss his neck at the same time. "B- tickles-"  
"Doof, I might have to actually start calling you tha-" Bertrand went abruptly silent as one of Robin's hands shifted to his trousers.  
"You were saying?"  
"Ohfognevermind  _Bran_ -"

It didn't take long for them to realise that they needed to get out of their trousers if they didn't want them ruined, and once they'd done that it was only a matter of time before they were making desperate stifled wanting noises into each others' mouths, hands moving deftly in tandem as each focused on trying to make the other let out the loudest noise.  
" _Bertrand-_ " Robin wasn't really surprised to be the first to cave in, although he  _was_  surprised that he'd managed to tear himself away from Bertrand's lips in order to do it. "Oh, please-" Bertrand seemed to know just what he needed without being told, though, altering his rhythm just very slightly as he took advantage of Robin pulling away by nipping hard at his neck. Robin yelped – he'd deny that later, of course – and came with a shudder, all over Bertrand's hand, as his own movements lost all semblance of rhythm. The older vampire didn't manage to hold out for much longer before following him over the edge with a low groan, and they lay there in each other's arms, staring up at the stars, for a few minutes while they recovered their composure.

"Fog," Bertrand mumbled at last, "why do we ever leave the coffin room?"  
"How else would we have hot park sex?" Robin argued, and a few moments passed in sated, sleepy silence before Robin sat bolt upright. " _Fog_ , my parents, we've got to go home."  
"I'm not sure my legs will work just yet."  
"Do you want them to send Vlad out looking for us?" There was barely a split-second's pause as Bertrand considered it before springing to his feet and struggling with his trousers.  
"Oh, look, they're fixed, come on, let's go."

The moment they walked in, Malik burst out laughing, Vlad shooting him a glare before spotting the source of hilarity and barely biting back a snigger himself.  
"Rob," Malik managed after a moment, "I've just realised you wore that shirt yesterday, too. You should go and change."  
"What? I didn'-" Vlad cut him off.  
"No, really, Robin, you should. Bertrand, you'll lend him a shirt, right?" The older vampire nodded suspiciously.  
"As the Grand High Vampire commands... you can find yourself one, can't you? I'm in your old room." Robin frowned, but obediently turned to disappear upstairs in the face of overwhelming numbers. Suddenly, it all made sense to Bertrand – the grass-stains on Robin's back were unmistakeable. Fortunately, it seemed as though the Branaghs either hadn't noticed or were pretending they hadn't. Bertrand dropped his face into his hands and stayed there, mortified.

"Well, loves, who wants a cup of tea? I'm afraid we haven't got any blood, unless Bertrand's still got some up there." Bertrand was never going to get used to the Branaghs embracing their vampiric acquaintances. Still, it was some relief when both of Robin's parents disappeared into the kitchen, Graham muttering something about seeing if there were any biscuits.

Well, it was a relief until Malik burst out laughing.  
"We were  _stargazing_!" Bertrand protested, and that proved to be too much for Vlad as well. When Robin returned, looking sheepish in a shirt of Bertrand's that didn't quite fit right, he found Bertrand with his face in his hands once more, Vlad and Malik howling uncontrollably.  
"What's funny?" Bertrand just pulled him down to sit next to him and buried his face in his neck instead. Robin patted his hair awkwardly and changed the subject.


	58. Chapter 58

"Never mind about the grass-stains, Robin, they'll come out in the wash." Bertrand's expression was priceless, Vlad and Malik were howling, but Robin only understood why when he took the shirt his mum was holding out to him and peered at it.  
"Oh, blood... thanks, Mum." He hugged her, and his dad, glad to be able to do so without feeling any sort of temptation to bite them. "I'll see you soon, yeah?"  
"Next time might be at the bloodbinding," Bertrand told them quietly as he was hugged in his turn, and Robin heard.  
"Am I not allowed to see them until then? Is it some kind of tradition?" Bertrand laughed, obviously a little embarrassed.  
"No, I just... I was hoping we could do it soon. I want you mine, Robin Branagh. And I want to be yours." Malik was making loud retching noises behind them – at least, he was until Robin's dad gave him that  _look_  he'd seen so often as a child – but Robin couldn't take the enormous grin off his face.  
"Yeah. Yeah, as soon as possible. Vlad, how soon is possible?" Vlad shrugged.  
"Probably next week some time, I'll have to check... and call in the Council and the clans, so I can't promise anything."  
"We can invite Erin, right? And Malik, you'll stay? And Mum and Dad can come?" That did earn him a nod from the Chosen One.  
"Yeah, all that's fine. Unprecedented, but fine. Come on, let's go before it gets light. It was good to see you again, Mr and Mrs Branagh."  
"You too, Vlad. And Malik, it was lovely to meet you. You'll stop by any time for a cuppa, won't you?" Malik frowned, then nodded slowly, as if he was still waiting for the catch.  
"No catch," he assured him as they strode through town, "I think they must really like you for some reason." Malik looked as if he was going to hit him before Robin's teasing smile registered and he relaxed.  
"Everyone likes me, Branagh."

Vlad peeled off at the edge of the estate, leaving Malik to trail awkwardly along in Bertrand and Robin's wake. He seemed thoughtful, and Robin could tell Bertrand had noticed. He yawned a little more widely than he would have normally, and turned to them both in the hallway.  
"Well, I'm knackered, revamp really takes it out of you." Bertrand hesitated, apparently torn.  
"I don't think I could sleep yet, love, but you go and get some rest."  
"Wake me up when you join me, then?" He kissed him goodnight, nodded to Malik, and disappeared upstairs. If Malik had something to get off his chest, Bertrand could deal with it better in private. And Robin really was tired, so this would work out well for all of them.

* * *

They sat together at the kitchen table, Malik toying idly with the edge of a newspaper Robin must have left there. It was obvious that there was something on his mind, and Bertrand was nothing if not patient. He waited quietly for the younger vampire to find the words he needed.  
"I spent about an hour down here, you know." He gestured vaguely in the direction of the Blood Cellar. "When Robin told me... I mean, I don't drink. I haven't in years, you know that. But just knowing it was there... I was tempted, for a while. Just staring at that door. I knew you probably wouldn't drink it for ages, you probably wouldn't even have noticed a bit missing from the bottle..." Bertrand didn't correct him; if he thought there was only one bottle of blood down there, that was probably for the best.  
"It's not the end of the world, being tempted. You know I still drink occasionally, I'm really impressed with the way you've taken up the revamp challenge. You shouldn't feel bad for wanting to slip into old habits now and then."

"How did you do it?" He frowned, not understanding. "Robin, he was a breather the whole time and you never tasted his-?"  
"I did. Within a few weeks of meeting him. Before I even met you. He was an idiot and offered me it when he cut his arm, and I... I was too hungry to resist." If anything, Malik looked even more impressed.  
"So you'd got his scent, got a taste for him and everything... you didn't bite him?"  
"No. Not until he asked me to."  
"This is why you're still the best. How you can have little bits and still control yourself I don't know – you remember what happened when I had a sip-"  
"You fell off the wagon for a bit, I can't believe you're still beating yourself up about it. It was  _two days_  before you came back to re-revamp, you're hardly a monster. And that was years ago."  
"Yeah, well. Does it ever get easy?" Bertrand shrugged.  
"It gets easier. I hope, for Robin's sake, it's just us addicts who suffer."  
"So do I. He's a good guy, I'm happy for you. Even if you are a total cradle snatcher."  
"Quiet, you. Don't think I haven't noticed how happy you seem not to be a Dracula." Malik shifted uncomfortably.  
"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter, does it? Messed that up when I knocked her back."  
"Maybe not. At any rate, it doesn't change  _your_  feelings." Malik huffed irritably, which was a sure sign that Bertrand was right, and changed the subject.

It wasn't long before Bertrand began to make his excuses, assuring Malik that he had the freedom of the house and the use of the guest room for as long as he wanted – but then the phone rang.  
"Hello?"  
 _"Bertrand! Haven't spoken to you in ages. Look, I just wanted to say, if you and Robin want some privacy, Malik's more than welcome to a guest room at the main house. You both have a lot to celebrate, after all, and I've declared a rest day because I can't deal with being up all day_ and _night in my old age."  
_ "You're twenty-three- fine, I'll tell him. Malik, Vlad says you can stay at the main house if y-?"  
"Oh thank blood, I thought I was going to have to just hum really loudly to myself. Tell him I'll see him in five."  
 _"I heard_ ," Vlad assured him.  _"Sleep well, when you get round to sleeping."_

Once Malik had collected his stuff and gone, Bertrand practically flew up the stairs. He leant against the doorframe of the coffin room for a moment, just observing how peaceful Robin looked, a million miles from the restless sleep of his revamp. He changed out of his clothes as quietly as he could and crept to the coffin, trying not to wake his lover as he slipped in alongside him.  
"Told you to wake me up," Robin grumbled drowsily, and Bertrand chuckled.  
"And it seems I did. Shh, go to sleep, now, love. We've got the house to ourselves and a day off tomorrow, there's plenty of time for other things once you've rested."  
"Mm, stay with me?" That merited a fond kiss on the cheek, in Bertrand's opinion.  
"Of course. I'm tired too. Sleep."

* * *

They'd slept for a while, and then Bertrand had woken him up by trying to check his pulse and he'd had to distract him from his embarrassment in the most enjoyable way he knew how to. After that, Bertrand had fallen asleep again with a contented smile on his face, but Robin had stayed awake, restless, watching him.

He'd missed him, when he was away. Knowing that he was with Robin's own parents meant he didn't have to actually worry, but he'd still longed for him almost as much as he'd hungered for blood. Now they were to be bloodbound; he and Vlad had discussed the idea of combining the clan and bloodbinding ceremonies, but he hadn't been entirely sure Bertrand was awake and listening when he'd murmured the suggestion into his ear and received a mumbled affirmative in return. But the binding couldn't happen until the clan ceremony had, and his parents would certainly be invited to both. Bertrand had said the bloodbinding, so it seemed he'd decided-  
"Robin." The man in question had his eyes open, staring at him. "You're thinking too hard."  
"We're going to be married," Robin whispered in response, and Bertrand sat up, blinking sleepily.  
"Yeah. I mean... if you want. You don't have to-" He went down in a hail of kisses, Robin making sure to roll them as they hit the coffin base so that Bertrand could be on top as usual.

When they broke apart, it took him a while to realise that it was really quite unnecessary for him to pant for breath.  
"You want to, then?" Bertrand's question didn't make sense for a few moments.  
" _Oh_  – yes, of course I – I'm just thinking about it, not having second thoughts. There's a difference. Are  _you_  sure you want to marry  _me_?"  
"Hmm," Bertrand slumped down at his side and pretended to think about it. "Do I want to marry the most perfect vampire in the world, formerly the most perfect  _breather_  in the world, and the only man I've ever truly loved?"  
"Can't marry all three," Robin teased, "that's greedy." Bertrand nipped affectionately at his shoulder.  
"I can't wait to marry you, Robin Branagh." He smiled.  
"I can't wait to be allowed to bite you back again," and he snuggled in close. Noticing his mobile flashing, he picked it up and scanned the message. "Vlad says he and Malik are going to plan the whole ceremony, by the way."

Bertrand sat up just far enough to take the phone off him and begin texting frantically, a look of intense concentration on his face as he attempted to use the predictive text function without garbling the message. Robin knew he preferred to phone people, but it was the middle of the day and most vampires he could call would be asleep. When he handed it back, an unfamiliar number was asking if he wanted to save it.  
"Who did you text?" He asked lightly, curious rather than concerned.  
"Ingrid," Bertrand murmured, and pulled Robin back down with him. "If anyone's planning our ceremony, it's not going to be those two. Not unsupervised, anyway." Robin had to admit he could see the wisdom in that.  
"I didn't know she could tex- hm, that's distracting." The lips at his neck moved away, and he wriggled in protest. "I didn't say  _stop_."


	59. Chapter 59

Robin was in the very front row, dressed in a very smart suit. Twice on the way here, Bertrand had had to stop himself from ripping it off of him. Even now, his mind was wandering, and Vlad was trying to catch his eye so they could get started.

"We're gathered here," he began, when at last he had everyone's attention, "to witness the ascension of a vampire from humble beginnings to a position worthy of his character. Bertrand du Fortunesa, in recognition of your service to the Vampire High Council, to the Chosen One, and to the Grand High Vampire, I hereby offer you the status and security of a Clan Leader, your own Clan du Fortunesa. Do you accept the responsibilities of that title?"  
"I do." He was proud of how strong his voice sounded, as if he wasn't still utterly stunned and amazed by this turn of events.  
"Do you swear to uphold my laws and the laws of my successors, for as long as you remain undead?"  
"I do."  
"Will you safeguard the honour and reputation of the Vampire High Council, in word and deed?"  
"I will." Of course, he had said nothing about safeguarding the honour of individual members of the Council. If someone wasn't doing right by Vlad, he wouldn't hesitate to call them out on it.

Vlad turned to Lesauvage, one of his personal guards, who was waiting nearby.  
"The cape and crest, please." They were placed into his hands; a black cloak with pale blue detailing, and a brooch bearing the new crest Vlad had had designed for them. "Please kneel, Bertrand." He sank obediently to his knees and tried not to worry about what people would think of the extra 'please' Vlad had added to the script of the ceremony. The Grand High Vampire slung the cape around his shoulders and pinned it shut carefully; they both knew that some of the older vampires present would take it as an omen if the cloak fell. "And rise, Clan Leader du Fortunesa."

Now came the unconventional bit, the moment they'd rehearsed over and over again, the moment they'd run by the Council for approval, the moment pulled straight from a book that was half legend and half history.  
"Bring me the Mirror-"  
"No." A ripple of interest ran through the assembled estate staff; they knew what they'd been invited to witness, of course – a clan ceremony and a bloodbinding – but they hadn't expected this. "No, please, grandness, I would not perform this rite alone. I humbly ask that my partner, Robin Branagh, be afforded equal privilege and joined to the Mirror with me." Vlad pretended to look thoughtful, though his eyes were twinkling as if he was trying very hard not to laugh.  
"That could only be so if you were bound in blood-"  
"I ask that also." The Chosen One didn't bother pretending to think about that.  
"Then so be it. Robin?"

There were a few mutterings and curious looks as Robin stood and made his way to stand beside his lover; usually, a bloodbinding would come after the Clan ceremony had been completed in its entirety. According to the usual way of things, Bertrand's vows should have been made, and the crest presented, and then there would usually be a short reception-type affair, during which Bertrand would quietly make his way to the Mirror with his witnesses and bind it to him. Then, later, he could have any bloodbinding he wanted and Robin would simply add his blood to the Mirror. But Bertrand had been very certain; he had wanted Robin to be his equal in status within the clan – though with just the two of them it hardly mattered – and he had wanted to be bound to Robin even before he was bound to his own Clan.

Vlad, somewhat surprisingly, had agreed to this, and here they were.  
"Does anyone know any reason these two men should not be bound in blood?" There was a mutter of something that sounded suspiciously like _necro_   _queers_ and if it had been anyone other than one of Robin's brothers who'd spoken, Bertrand would have reduced them to dust in seconds. As it was, he closed his eyes and counted to three, reminding himself all the while that the twins had been reluctant to come at all and that it meant a great deal to Robin that his mother had managed to talk them into it.  
"Doubt you could stop 'em anyway," Malik ventured eventually, after the awkward pause had dragged on just a little too long, "but it looks like they're clear, Vlad."  
"Right. Yes. Well then. Do you both swear to be loyal to one another, to honour and protect one another, to be bound until your day dawns?"  
"I do," Bertrand told him firmly, and Robin grinned at him.  
"I do, too." Vlad smiled.  
"Then you may seal your bond with an exchange of bites." He turned towards Bertrand and nodded.

He didn't waste much time; he might have spent a little time kissing or stroking Robin's neck to relax him if Robin hadn't immediately tilted his head to offer him better access. The wounds of his turning were still visible and Bertrand had no desire to inflict further pain on that spot; he bit a little higher up his neck this time, and Robin shivered under his touch. Bertrand couldn't help lingering over the bite, savouring the way Robin was trying not to moan – he could feel him shaking with the effort – before drawing back and running his tongue over the wounds in a slow, sensual movement, closing them up.

Vlad turned to Robin as Bertrand moved back, and he realised it was his turn.

* * *

Robin had been bitten, they were halfway through their blood-binding, and all eyes were on him. It was time for him to do his part.

He swallowed nervously, belatedly realising that he'd never actually bitten anyone before. Looking to Bertrand for reassurance was no good; he could see the tension in every muscle as the older vampire waited for the bite that would bind them, the first proper vampire bite he'd have received since his sire had- well. Robin had to hide his nerves, then; Bertrand was in no state to deal with them. He took both his hands in his own, squeezed gently until Bertrand managed the tiniest of encouraging smiles, and then leant in to press a kiss to his neck.  
"There?" He'd barely whispered it loud enough for Bertrand to hear – even right next to his ear – but Bertrand gave an almost imperceptible nod and his grip on Robin's hands tightened. Robin's fangs sank deep and it was done.

He pulled away as quickly as he felt he could without seeming an unwilling participant, instinctively running his tongue over the wounds to seal them, as Bertrand had done for him twice now. For a moment, entirely focused on reading Bertrand's expression, on checking he was OK, Robin completely forgot where they were. And then Vlad spoke.  
"It gives me great pleasure to declare you bound, Bertrand and Robin du Fortunesa, of Clan du Fortunesa!" The hall erupted into cheers – led by Erin, Chloe and his parents, of course, but taken up surprisingly swiftly by the other guests and residents of the estate. Even the High Council were applauding. The two newly-weds turned to look at the congregation and a single glance sideways confirmed that Bertrand looked just as awestruck as Robin himself felt. One of his hands was still firmly in Robin's, and he didn't intend to change that any time soon.

It was Malik, of course, who stood and cupped his hands round his mouth.  
"Aren't you gonna kiss the bride? Isn't that the breather thing?" Bertrand, apparently, didn't need telling twice; he didn't even glance towards Vlad or the Council for approval before he swept Robin into his arms, dipped him dramatically, and kissed him. It was pretty tame, for them, but that didn't stop a shout from the front row.  
"Get a room!" Robin would have stuck a middle finger up, but his  _mum_  was there, after all. That said, he also wasn't going to pull away from Bertrand for the time it would take to tell Paul to shut up. And he was choosing not to hear what Ian was muttering about poofs and fairies and how Robin was such a  _girl_. There was a hiss and he realised Ingrid, once an object of worship for the twins, was now right up in their faces, fangs bared. Another hiss and he remembered that Malik had been sitting right next to her.

Bertrand let him up after far too short and chaste a kiss, and Vlad handed him Robin's official du Fortunesa cape and crest. Bertrand could have just handed it over, it would have fulfilled the tradition, but he didn't; he carefully draped it over his shoulders and fastened it for him, as if Robin hadn't been wearing capes since he was about eleven years old. It was a sweet gesture. Robin couldn't have been happier.  
"I love you," Bertrand murmured in his ear, under the pretext of straightening the cloak for him, "so much-" It was overwhelming; Robin's head was spinning.

He could hear cheering and the slightest undertone of anger which had to be someone – probably one or both of his parents – telling off the twins, but it all seemed very far away somehow and only Bertrand's hands smoothing down the fabric over his shoulders seemed real.  
"Bran," again, the softest of murmurs, but he heard, "are you alright?"  
"Fog, I'm so happy," he managed, "so... so happy... B..."  
"Do you need us to get out of here for a moment?" He nodded weakly. The ceremony was over, he realised; the guests were mingling, Vlad had moved away... yes, he wanted to get out, just for long enough to clear his head.

He didn't know how he did it, but Bertrand got him out.

* * *

Bertrand had been nervous; if he had a panic attack when Robin bit him he'd never live it down. If only he hadn't been so intent on their bloodbinding being the first time he did it – but of course, Robin had been Robin and taken care of him without drawing attention to the problem. Now, though, in his new cape and with his friends and family rioting around them – Bertrand had kept one eye on the Branaghs until Malik had assured him he'd protect them from hungry guests – Robin was glassy-eyed and swaying slightly. He'd wrapped an arm around him and bundled him through the milling crowd of well-wishers until they found themselves outside the house, in the shade of one of the tree-lined tunnels.

"Alright, Bran, what's wrong?" Robin shook his head, eyes filling with tears.  
"I... I just... I don't know. I love you. I'm so... I woke up this morning a half-fang's boyfriend and now I'm a Clan Leader's h-husband..." He collapsed against Bertrand's chest, and all Bertrand could think to do was wrap his arms around him and squeeze him tight.  
"It's a lot to take in, I know. A lot's changed. But you know what hasn't? How much I love you. Never forget that, Bran."  
"Not... not Doof?" Bertrand shook his head.  
"No. You're still my Bran, Robin du Fortunesa."  
"Mm, yours. All yours." Bertrand growled at him, a warning and a promise all in one.  
"Keep talking like that and I'm not going to be able to wait to get you home-"  
"You're not going home."

They whirled round to find Ingrid leaning against a wall, Malik sniggering beside her.  
"As batsmaid and best man, we took it upon ourselves to arrange you a honeymoon. Booked out a small castle in Scotland – nice this time of year, you've got the whole place to yourselves, it's in a habitable state and there aren't too many windows." Malik grinned as she finished talking.  
"We went and got it all sorted it out for you last night. It's yours for a week, stocked up with soy, and all sorts of other fun diversions." He tipped them a massive wink as if they could possibly miss the implication there. Bertrand smirked; he knew how to get his own back.  
"Batsmaid and best man... you know the tradition, right?" They levelled matching glares at him and he held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, we're going back inside in a minute, no more innuendos from anyone. Deal?"

The other two nodded reluctantly and turned to go back inside, leaving Bertrand to peer at Robin.  
"How are you feeling, love?" The younger man closed his eyes for a moment as a cool breeze shivered its way along the avenue.  
"Yeah, I'm OK. Sorry, I just... I can't believe we're finally  _married_."  
"Tell me you haven't changed your mind." He was only half joking, but Robin was quick to reassure him.  
"Never. Can you... can you say it again?"  
"What?" He'd missed something somewhere.  
"My name."  
"Robin?"  _Oh_. It all clicked into place. "Robin du Fortunesa. My Robin du Fortunesa."  
"Mm. I like how that sounds."  
"So do I, my love. So do I."

Once they were back inside, Bertrand steered him smoothly over to the corner where their new Blood Mirror stood, well-guarded by some of the men Bertrand himself had suggested for the Grand High Vampire's guard detail. Each in turn made a shallow cut in his hand, dark, sluggish blood escaping from the wounds. They pressed their hands together for a moment before placing them on the mirror's surface. The glass rippled and Robin looked up at him in wonder.  
"Do you feel that?" He did; a wave of cold, then a wave of warmth, and then the pattern repeated. As if by mutual agreement, though neither of them spoke, they both pulled their hands away after a complete cycle, and waited for normality to be restored.

He couldn't really be blamed, Bertrand thought, for dragging his new husband into a kiss; nor could he really resent the Branaghs – well, Chloe, Elizabeth and Graham – for interrupting to congratulate them and exchange hugs. Of course, once they'd started it, everyone in the hall wanted to have their turn to speak to the new couple, offering advice or compliments, and it seemed like an impossibly long time before the two lovers stood alone once more, arms around each other and swaying gently as if dancing to music nobody could hear.  
"I love you, my Robin," Bertrand whispered, and watched his lover's face light up.  
"I love you too.  _My_ Bertrand." Bertrand kissed his neck – the uninjured side – and growled softly.  
"All yours. Always." Robin shivered.  
"I see what you mean, I can't wait for our honeymoon when you say that."  
"Then let's not wait." They said goodbye to a few people and, with evening drawing in around them, left the party to continue in their absence.


	60. Chapter 60

The first thing they did, after they'd hung up their new capes together inside the door, was get rid of the restraints. Malik had left them a box of handcuffs and silk ropes, and a note.

_He can't leave you now, you can admit to any kinks you like._

It wasn't clear which of them the note was supposed to address, but Robin watched the way Bertrand's face fell when he saw the ropes, and shoved the box straight into the first cupboard he spotted.  
"Calm, love, you're safe." He ran a soothing thumb over Bertrand's cheek, comforting and caressing all at once. "You're safe here with me." His new husband – Robin thrilled at the thought – nodded slowly, reaching up to cover Robin's hand with his own.  
"Safe with you," he murmured, and then in a blur of movement that hand was pinning Robin's to the nearest wall, and Bertrand was pressed against him, kissing him as if he would fall apart if he didn't. Robin wrapped his free arm around him and pulled him still closer.  
"My husband," he managed, between kisses, and Bertrand made a strange noise somewhere between a moan and a desperate whimper.  
"My  _husband_ ," he answered, and Robin could hear the incredulous joy in his voice, "my  _husband-"_

Robin wasn't sure how they got from there, in the entrance hall of the little fortress, to the bedroom upstairs – he dimly remembered stumbling into other rooms before finding the right place – but almost before he knew it they were standing in front of a large, soft-looking bed.  
"...That's gonna feel amazing, B, look-" As he threw himself down on it to demonstrate the bounce, he wasn't surprised to find Bertrand right on top of him.  
"Forget the bed." That wasn't difficult; he was amply distracted by Bertrand pressing reverent kisses to his neck. " _I'll_  make you feel amazing." He waited for the moment of doubt, the moment where Bertrand would stop and add  _'if you like'_ , but it never came; Bertrand just rocked against him and waited for him to nod.  
" _Yes_. Yeah, you will."

Then they were scrambling to get each other out of their smart ceremonial clothes, scattering them carelessly across the floor, and Robin opened the bedside drawers to find that Malik and Ingrid had provided them with plenty of practical supplies too. He threw what they needed at Bertrand, prompting a brief halt in activities as a condom packet hit his lover in the face and they both burst into a fit of giggles at his wounded expression – and then Bertrand was all over him, kissing everywhere he could reach and teasing extra when he squirmed, busy with his fingers at the same time. It didn't take long for Robin to be reduced to a writhing, incoherent, desperate mess.  
"Please, Bertrand, please-"  
"If my husband commands-"  
"Your husband is  _begging_ -" Then Bertrand was inside of him, and Robin was arching upwards, crying out, and Bertrand's  _hands_  and his  _body_  and  _everything_ \- Robin's lips caught Bertrand's and he felt his husband tense and then, with a desperate moan, release, his hand on Robin still moving to guide him through his own climax a minute later.

They lay together, exhausted and happy, a tangle of limbs and sheets and contentment, for a long while in silence.  
"Fog," Bertrand managed at last, and Robin waited for him to continue, expecting more of his usual eloquence, but it seemed that Bertrand had no more words.  
"Yeah," he responded at last. Bertrand nuzzled into his neck, physically affectionate in a way he rarely dared to be. He seemed somehow softened, as if a great weight had been lifted from him.  
"Mine," he whispered after a few minutes, "you really... you promised not to leave me?" Robin almost  _glared_  at him for making it sound like a question – like it  _needed_  to be a question, like there was any chance of Robin walking away from him now – but he didn't think that would help matters.  
"I promised myself not to leave you when we were still living at Garside, idiot." The insult was almost a pet name in itself, by this point, and he knew Bertrand was confident enough in his own intelligence – if nothing else – not to get offended. "Today wasn't the first time I promised you, either. I was never going to leave you. I  _am_  never going to leave you. My husband the Clan Leader." Bertrand groaned.  
"I never expected to be- I don't know the first thing about being-"  
"Rubbish, you know everything about Clan Leaders, and you know your own mind. You'll be excellent at it. You can teach me. Besides, it's not like we have an enormous clan to rule over. Just us."  
"For now," Bertrand murmured, and he wasn't quite sure if he was supposed to have heard or not, so he didn't query Bertrand's apparent decision that they would break the truce and create more half-fangs, or remind him of the biological impossibility of children.

Instead, he pressed a kiss to his husband's forehead.  
"I love you. Have you really been so afraid of me leaving you?"  
"You still could if you wanted, I wouldn't – there wouldn't be any repercussions-"  
"I'd lose you," Robin said simply, "and that would be terrible. Are you going to leave  _me_?" That earned him a look as if he'd just said something incredibly stupid, and he smiled. "Exactly. That's how I feel about you, Bertrand, you moron, so stop thinking I don't love you. I do.  _I do._ " He smiled, remembering the ceremony, and Bertrand smiled back.

* * *

"Actually," Robin continued after a while, and Bertrand felt a stab of fear – had he changed his mind about leaving him, already? - "Actually, I've got a bone to pick with you."  
"Yeah?" He hoped it wasn't anything too serious – he didn't want to have upset his Robin, or hurt him, especially not on the day of their bloodbinding.  
"Mm." Robin was pressing kisses to his neck, now, a reversal of their actions earlier, and Bertrand relaxed beside him. Of course it was nothing serious, or Robin wouldn't be holding him so close, smoothing his hands so gently over Bertrand's scarred skin. "Earlier, when you bit me."  
"Did I hurt you?" The question came out sounding lazier and less bothered than was probably appropriate, given the nature of it, but it was very hard to focus with Robin being so... well...  _snuggly_.  
"No. No, but B,  _blood_. You were so- you must have felt the way I-" He stopped to kiss him every time he failed to finish the sentence, until at last he gave up and changed tack. "We were in  _public_ , Bertrand, in front of my  _mum._ And that was not a simple bite, that was... that was one of the most erotic things you've ever-"  
"I can think of some other contenders," Bertrand countered mildly, "all of which I am happy to demonstrate to you again this week." Robin made a soft, contented noise and he knew he was forgiven for making his knees weak in front of the congregation. "But I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable, and I want to thank you, for... for being so considerate. When it was my turn."  
"Shh, don't be silly. I love you, of course I wanted to make it easy on you. I know you must have been worried about panicking in front of everyone. It didn't show, by the way, only to me, only because I knew what I was looking for."  
"Still. Thank you. It means a lot to me."  
"Don't I mean a lot to you anyway?" Robin teased, turning his attention to his lover's chest, wriggling until he could reach to press careful, tender kisses to the toned muscle there.  
"You mean the world to me, Robin."

The second time was slower, sweeter; they took their time in teasing and toying with one another, Bertrand dragging Robin back up his body when his mouth wandered too close to making him lose control and claiming his lips instead, letting him wrestle a little to keep them on their sides rather than simply pinning him and waiting for his surrender. The wrestling turned into stroking, and gentle friction, and finally Robin slid down the bed again and ran kisses up his thigh before getting down to what he'd been trying to accomplish to start with. Bertrand was helpless, for a moment, rolling onto his back to give Robin a better angle and melting under his touch. He was impatient; he forced himself to push his husband away in order to return the favour, until Robin, too, was gasping as if he'd forgotten he didn't need to breathe. A hand in his hair pulled him back to gaze into dark, lust-filled eyes, and then that hand let him go and moved down between them. It didn't take long for them both to come undone once again.

"I can't keep my hands off you," Robin told him the next morning, "is that some kind of side-effect of the ceremony or something?"  
"I've never heard of it, if it is," Bertrand told him, "but I can't keep my hands off you either. Maybe it's just because we're amazing."  
"We  _are_  amazing." Robin sighed happily, his head on Bertrand's bare chest. "Maybe it's just because you're all naked and normally you'd have had to put some clothes on and  _do_ something by now."  
"I  _should_  make breakfast," he realised, "but... I suppose I could just wrap a blanket around myself or something." Robin frowned at him.  
"I like that plan, with a minor alteration."

They made breakfast together, one sheet tied around both of their waists. Well, Bertrand tried very hard to focus on the breakfast. Robin seemed quite intent on burning it by way of constantly distracting Bertrand.  
" _Fog,_  that's not very hygienic," he told him at last, as Robin turned round between him and the bacon and eggs he was trying to fry and slipped a hand under the sheet. Robin reluctantly pulled away.  
"Fine, I'll stop, but only because I'm hungry and I don't want you to get angry with me."  
"I'm not angry, Bran." He pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Tell you what, if you want, you can grab something to cover yourself up with and see if you can find where they've stashed the soy blood." Robin shrugged, untied the sheet, tied it again around Bertrand only, and wandered off completely naked. "What if someone walks in?" He called after him.  
"They won't!" Still, when Robin returned bearing two bottles, Bertrand almost dropped the food he was plating up. "This OK?" Robin seemed genuinely nervous, but Bertrand couldn't speak, couldn't take his eyes off him.

Apparently Robin had found something to wear; his brand new cape, the one that marked him out as Bertrand's family, the one that marked them out as a unit, the one that  _covered nothing_ when you looked from the front.

The food got cold. They both agreed that it was delicious anyway, and the delay had definitely been worth it.

* * *

"Home tomorrow night," Robin murmured almost a week later as they lay in bed, curled around one another, "'s going to be weird having responsibilities again."  
"Mm. New ones, too. Remind me to rescue that box Malik left before we go, whoever owns this place could probably live without that."  
"My considerate husband. We should take any leftover soy, too." Bertrand nodded sleepily.  
"Mm. Anything vampiric. Mm, that's nice." He smiled, pleased with himself. He hadn't been sure if Bertrand was ready to cope with having his neck nibbled on again, after the bite at the ceremony, but he was practically purring.  
" _You're_  nice." He told him, and let his teeth pinch a little harder at his husband's neck so that his hips bucked involuntarily. "You taste nice."  
"You're insatiable." There was no bite behind it though; they were both happily exhausted after a whole week of doing nothing but what they wanted to. They'd cooked, of course, and been for a few flights, and they'd even tidied up a little in preparation for their departure, but for the most part they'd been content to lie in bed and wear each other out.  
"Mm. You're a terrible temptation." Bertrand was almost asleep, though, and Robin wasn't far behind him.

When they landed at home the next night they were relieved to find no welcoming party waiting for them. It seemed silly to go straight back to their own coffin, but they did, collapsing into it together and cuddling close.  
"Robin du Fortunesa," he heard Bertrand mumble as he closed his eyes, and that more than merited a kiss on the cheek.  
"My husband, my wonderful Bertrand."

In that moment, back in their own coffin, matching clan capes hanging on the back of the door, matching bears beside them, matching rings on their fingers, everything was perfect. Bertrand's issues, Robin's quirks, their UV allergies, none of those things could ruin it.

They were happy. They slept well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this story - please let me know.
> 
> Subscribe to the series if you want to be informed when the sequel starts going up!


End file.
